if 

BH 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


0 1 

3f  (0 


/  c 


W1LMER  COLLECTIOI 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2010  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/fromdusttoashesrOOrumb 


f\  I^omagee  of  t^e  Confederacy. 


MOST  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED 

TO  THE  GALLANT  DEAD  OF  THE  ALUMNI  OF 
THE  V.  M.  I., 

WHO  KEPT  THEIR  FAITH 

AND 

LAID   DOWN  THEIR   LIVES  AS   SOLDIERS  OF   THEIR    MOTHER 

STATE,  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  WAR  OF  1861-65. 

ALSO, 

TO  THOSE  WHO  FELL  IN  THEIR  CHARGE   ON  THE 
MEMORABLE   PLAIN   OF  NEW  MARKET, 

The  "Boy  Soldiers;" 

BEARDLESS  YET  DAUNTLESS; 

TO    THEM    WE    BEND    IN  FAITHFUL    ACKNOWLEDGMENT    OF 

SERVICE,    AS    GLORIOUS    AND     UNDYING,    AS   THOSE 

WHO  CLASPED  THE  SHEEPSKIN,  THE  SINGLE 

TOKEN  OF  THEIR  ALMA  MATER. 


4  Dedication. 

We  are  growing  old,  and  soon  the  "taps"  will  be 
sounded  for  the  last  of  the  classes  preceding  1861.  'Tis 
only  a  desire  to  render  our  homage  unto  truth,  the  great 
Director  of  Happiness  in  this  world,  that  we  humbly,  most 
humbly  present  this  truthful  statement  to  those  who  may 
perchance  find  these  lines.  Names  may  be  changed,  but 
behind  every  line,  truth  stands  ready  to  prove  every  as- 
sertion, and  prepared  to  repel  every  charge  of  wrong. 

May  a  just  God,  remembering  the  woes  of  the  con- 
quered, and  the  pride  of  the  oppressor,  give  us  and  our 
children  a  heart  to  bear  our  cross,  and  a  memory  whereon 
shall  be  engraved  the  eloquent  language  of  Doctor  Cave — 

"  I  am  not  one  of  those  who,  clinging;  to  the  old  superstition  that  the 
will  of  heaven  is  revealed  in  the  immediate  results  of  trial  by  combat,  fancy- 
ing- that  right  must  always  be  on  the  side  of  might,  and  speak  of  Appo- 
mattox as  the  judgment  of  God. 

"  I  do  not  forget  that  a  Suwaroff  triumphed  and  a  Kosciusko  fell ;  that 
a  Nero  wielded  a  scepter  of  empire  and  a  Paul  was  beheaded;  that  a  Herod 
was  crowned  and  a  Christ  crucified;  and  instead  of  accepting  the  defeat  of 
the  South  as  a  divine  verdict  against  her,  I  regard  it  as  but  another  instance 
of  '  truth  on  the  scaffold  and  wrong  on  the  throne.'" 

Little  Rock,  Arkansas,  1895. 

Respectfully, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PREFACE. 

Reading  one  day,  the  "  explano-prefatory  "  of  a  book 
entitled,  "In  Vinculis,"  by  A.  M.  Keiley,  a  Virginia  Con- 
federate, I  saw  these  words:  Through  books,  newspa- 
pers, magazines,  military  commissions,  congressional  leg- 
islation, proclamations,  reports,  "novels,"  so-called,  and 
histories  that  are  far  more  romantic,  the  North  is  not  only 
writing  the  story  of  the  late  war,  but  the  character  of  its 
late  enemies.  A  great  deal  of  this,  from  proclamation  up, 
we  know  to  be  false,  but  the  time  has  not  come,  nor  does 
every  one  who  feels  the  need,  feel  the  power  to  do  justice. 

Each  Southern  man  though,  may,  and  ought  to  contrib- 
ute something  to  our  own  story  of  this  war,  even  though 
it  be  as  pure  a  trifle  as  this:  "  The  living  claim  it,  and  the 
inexpressibly  loved  and  honored  dead  demand  it." 

And  I  hope  to  live  to  see  the  day,  when  the  infamous 
atrocities  of  Hunter  in  the  Valley  of  Virginia  will  have  a 
fitting  historian. 

And  above  all,  when  the  story  of  that  hellish  carnival  of 
lust,  and  rapine,  and  outrage,  and  arson,  and  murder  and 
nameless  villianies  which  Yankee  poets  and  magazine 
writers  euphoniously  name,  "  The  great  march  from  the 
mountains  to  the  sea,"  shall  be  painted  with  a  broad  brush 
and  a  free  hand,  that  mankind  may  shudder  again  to  think 
of  the  crimes  committed  in  the  name  of   "  Liberty." 

Actuated  by  just  such  feelings  and  motives,  I  thrust  out 
into  the  world,  this  new  born  "trifle,"  to  bear  all  the  ills 
of  a  doubting  and  critical  world. 

There  is  not  an  event  of  any  magnitude  mentioned  here- 
in, that  is  not  critically  and  historically  true.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  that  naught  is  put  down  here  in  malice ;  the 
days  of  carnage  are  long  past,  and  no  spirit  of  retribution 
exists  in  the  breasts  of   the  unsuccessful,  but  there  is  a 


6  Preface. 

spirit  implanted  in  the  minds  of  all  true  and  honorable 
men,  to  know  the  truth  of  events,  whether  detailed  in  his- 
tory or  in  romance.  In  no  instance,  throughout  these 
pages,  is  an  effort  made  to  exaggerate  the  deeds  of  our 
enemies,  or  to  insult  the  dead  by  false  representation;  as 
an  instance,  the  deeds  of  Miss  F.,  absolutely  perpetrated 
during  and  after  the  war,  if  left  to  our  judgment  alone, 
were  far  more  heinous  than  those  detailed  herein. 

Ah!  me,  the  forty  years  since  last  we  met, 
Seems  to  me  forty  folios,  bound  and  set 
By  time,  the  Great  Transcriber,  on  his  shelves, 
Wherein  are  written  the  histories  of  ourselves. 
What  tragedies,  what  comedies  are  there ; 
What  joy  and  grief,  what  rapture  and  despair! 
What  chronicles  of  triumph  and  defeat, 
Of  struggle,  and  temptation,  and  retreat; 
What  records  of  regrets  and  doubts  and  fears! 
What  pages  blotted,  blistered  by  our  tears; 
What  lovely  landscapes  on  the  margin  shine ; 
What  sweet  angelic  faces,  what  divine, 
And  holy  images  of  love  and  trust, 
Undimmed  by  age,  unsoiled  by  damp  or  dust. 

— Longfellow.     (Morituri  Salutamus). 


From  Dost  to  Ashes. 


^w^ 


A  Romance  of  the  Confederacy 


By  Geo,  P,  C.  Rumbough, 


LITTLE   ROCK,  ARKANSAS. 
Published  by  the  Brown  Printing  Company. 


Copyrighted  by  the  Author 

1895. 

[All  Rights  Reserved.] 


FROM  DUST  TO  ASHES. 


Chaptek  I. 

It  was  the  4th  day  of  July,  185 — ,  when  the  Corps 
of  Cadets  of  the  Virginia  Military  Institute  at 
Lexington  stood  for  the  last  time,  with  the  gradu- 
ating class  of  that  date,  on  the  parade  ground, 
and,  while  the  last  sad,  sweet  notes  of  ' '  Auld 
Lang  Syne"  floated  upon  the  air  from  the  in- 
struments of  Volandt's  Band,  with  tears  and 
almost  a  heart-broken  voice  came  the  Command- 
ant's order,  "Break  ranks."  Then  came  from 
a  lusty,  cheery  voice,  "Three  cheers  for  'Little 
Grill ! '  "  ( the  commandant ) .  This  was  given  with 
energy  and  zest,  and  for  the  day  discipline  was 
discounted. 

To  one  among  those  cadets,  who  wore  a  cap- 
tain's chevrons,  how  ominously  sounded  those 
words,  ' '  Break  ranks ! ' '  For  years  the  barracks 
of  the  Institute  had  been  his  home;  now  his 
ranks  were  broken  by  command,  his  home  was 
broken.  To  break  ranks  was  to  drift  far  away 
from  the  blue,  outlined  mountains ;  from  the  ties 
of  devoted  room-mates,  not  changed  for  years ; 
and,  from  her  who  had  won  the  adoration  of  his 

603217 


10  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

heart.  All,  all  seemed  to  be  gliding  away,  as  did 
the  fading  tones  of  that  sad  "Auld  Lang  Syne." 

Amid  the  chaff  and  chattering  of  elevated 
plebean  corporals,  more  modest,  but  not  less  ex- 
alted sergeants,  lieutenants  and  captains,  whose 
happiness  was  tempered  with  dignity,  four  room- 
mates, including  our  captain,  sauntered  quietly 
to  their  double-tower  rooms,  to  lay  aside  sword, 
sash  and  gun ;  to  shake  off  forever  the  dust  of 
college,  and  prepare  to  step  forth  a  citizen,  to  do 
duty  in  the  great  struggle  of  life,  liberty  and 
pursuit  of  happiness. 

Upon  the  evening  of  this  day,  the  great  event 
of  the  four  seasons,  the  annual  ball  of  the  grad- 
uating class  was  to  occur,  under  the  auspices  of 
our  captain,  whose  taste  and  energy  had  given 
the  walls  and  ceiling  of  the  Mess  Hall  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  thousand  lights,  reflecting  the  col- 
ors of  every  nationality,  and  dazzling  the  eyes 
of  the  beauties  of  many  states;  but,  none  more 
charming  than  those  of  the  daughters  of  the 
grand  old  Commonwealth  of  Virginia. 

It  is  now  the  hour  of  midnight,  and  three  ca- 
dets, ( 'apt.  Phil  Randolph,  Lawrence  Mayne  and 
Eobert  McKene  are  engaged  in  close  conver- 
sation, apart  from  others.  Speaking  in  a  non- 
chalant way,  Capt.  Randolph  remarked,  "  1  sup- 
pose you  two  will  report  progress  after  the  ball?" 

With  downcast  eyes,  poor  Lawrence  answered, 


Rflf 
Net* 


i  II  § 


•iiiiiiintiiHiiu  'It 


wiipwit'^m^ 


waNa^r<?Z*P^idm<th  'AY  <-^%,>n  fteaasr 


THE   BALL. 


The  Ball.  11 

sadly,  that  he  feared  that  he  would  have  noth- 
ing to  report  "worth  mentioning,"  for  be  it 
remembered,  though  as  true  and  honest  a  man 
or  a  soldier  as  any  living  being,  he  is  not  of  the 
mould,  nor  gifted  with  nature's  happy  faculties, 
to  impress  or  captivate  the  feminine  heart.  Im- 
agine a  young  man  about  twenty-one  years  of 
age,  five  feet  and  eleven  inches  in  height,  body 
flat  and  angular,  a  waist  too  near  his  shoulders, 
and  which  always  enforced  an  unseemly  crease 
in  his  uniform  coat  near  the  hips.  His  ears  were 
large,  his  nose  long  and  thin,  and  a  mouth  too 
broad  for  his  face,  and  eyes  neither  blue,  black 
nor  gray,  but  verging  toward  hazel,  they  were 
cheerful  and  expressive;  his  hair  was  thin  and 
straight — too  straight.  With  this  faint  outline 
you  have  our  dolorous  friend,  Lawrence  Mayne. 

The  brother  room-mate,  Robt.  McKene,  was 
just  the  reverse — perfect  in  figure,  stout,  strong 
and  active.  His  head  was  crowned  with  wavy 
brown  hair,  and  set  with  sparkling,  laughing 
gray  eyes.  In  a  cheery,  happy  manner,  which 
always  characterized  the  man,  he  said:  "Steady, 
Lawrence,  a  fig  for  a  faint  heart  in  the  beginning 
of  the  action;  remember  old  Jack's  talk  at  our 
last  recitation:  'Remember,  gentlemen,  when  it 
becomes  necessary  and  war  is  declared,  and  the 
sword  is  drawn,   throw  away  the   scabbard.'  ' 

"Don't  mind  that  handsome  upstart.     I  don't 


12  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

like  his  bearing,  or  his  hypocritical  familiarity; 
that  Mr.  Van  Horton,  I  mean." 

"Oh,  Rob,  you  are  always  my  guardian  angel." 

uJe  suis  re  que  je  suis,"  remarks  Lawrence, 
"and  for  better  and  for  worse.  I  can't  hold  a 
candle  to  that  blarsted  fellow ;  and  moreover,  she, 
to  whom  he  now  talks  so  earnestly,  is  from  the 
same  State  up  north,  and  there  is  where  the  ad- 
ditional advantage  comes  in." 

Three  ladies  are  now  approaching,  each  lean- 
ing upon  the  arm  of  her  escort,  for  the  merry 
dance  has  been  in  full  swing  for  three  hours, 
and  while  the  musicians  are  being  refreshed,  the 
couples  are  promenading  to  see  and  be  seen. 

"Come,"  was  the  one  word  spoken  by  Cap- 
tain Randolph,  and  with  smiles  and  happy 
greetings  each  swung  in  upon  the  unoccupied 
side  of  his  respective  lady-love.  The  old  adage 
of  a  new  broom  applies  here,  and  not  many  steps 
are  taken  before  the  three  room-mates  are  left 
each  in  the  sweet  possession  of  the  object  of  his 
affection.  We  will  not  weary  the  reader  with  a 
lengthy  description  of  these  young  ladies,  but 
simply  say  that  Captain  Randolph  was  bending 
his  head  low  and  speaking  to  a  typical  southern 
beauty,  clear  complexion,  cheeks  tinged  with 
the  rich,  roseate  hue  of  the  peach-bloom,  shaded 
by  hair  as  dark  and  glossy  as  the  raven's  wing, 
and  eyes   lustrous,   beautiful  (ravishing)  black 


A  Bevy  of  Beauties.  13 

eyes,  with  a  pliant  and  petite  figure ;  as  such  we 
introduce  Miss  Marguerite  Darlington. 

With  Kobert  McKene  was  the  tall,  lithe  blonde, 
the  pretty  and  talented  first  born  of  a  neighbor- 
ing pastor,  in  whose  love  he  felt  secure,  each 
bound  not  only  by  affection's  tie,  but  by  a  sim- 
ilarity of  faith,  being  both  communicants  of 
the  same  denomination,  and  as  was  often  said 
around  the  table  when  books  grew  tiresome,  that 
"they  were  born  for  one  another." 

With  Lawrence  Mayne  came  the  vivacious 
little  blonde  from  New  York,  Miss  Sadie  Carday, 
whose  petite  form  was  enhanced  by  contrast  with 
her  partner.  Her  head  was  thrown  back, 
crowned  with  innumerable  yellow  curls,  her 
piquante  face  upturned  and  her  blue  eyes  reflect- 
ing those  of  enraptured  Lawrence,  smiling  and 
nodding  with  that  same  sweet  little  '  'yes, ' ' '  'yes, ' ' 
"really,"  which  we  had  heard  so  often  in  our 
hours  of  leisure,  when  rules  were  broken  and 
visits  stolen.  As  we  look  back  now,  a  feeling 
of  sad  and  weary  recollection  pervades  our 
whole  being. 

The  events  of  that  night  of  music,  the  dance, 
the  merry  voices  of  the  revellers,  are  the  memo- 
ries of  happy  hours,  the  glimpses  of  bright  sails, 
cloudless  skies,  a  smooth  and  unruffled  sea ;  no 
sign  of  storm,  of  hidden  reef  nor  mountain 
billows;  no  shipwreck,  no  deeds  of  bloodshed, 


14  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

no  thought  of  grim-visaged  war  or  of  sudden 
death. 

The  evening  is  spent,  the  lights  are  extin- 
guished, and  each  room-mate  is  happy  in  the 
escort  of  his  lady-love  home. 

The  5th  of  July  finds  the  coaches  all  busy  in 
loading  cadets  and  baggage  for  a  homeward 
journey,  and  our  heroes  depart,  swearing  allegi- 
ance unalterable  and  undying;  and  thus  the  dust 
of  college  is  shaken  from  their  garments,  and 
left  behind  forever. 

Four  years  later,  a  tall,  soldierly-looking  man 
is  leaning  carelessly  against  a  stanchion  of  the 
guards  of  one  of  the  floating  palaces  of  the  great 
Mississippi  river;  his  gaze  is  fixed  upon  the 
seemingly  moving  landscape,  as  the  big  boat 
ploughs  its  way  through  the  muddy  waters.  It 
is  growing  towards  the  close  of  the  day,  and  a 
stillness  pervades  the  hour,  only  broken  by  the 
escape  of  steam  and  the  splash  of  the  wheels. 
Clad  in  a  hunter's  garb,  with  high-topped  boots, 
owe  would  hardly  recognize  the  beau.  Captain 
Randolph,  or  him  who  was  one  time  called  the 
best  dressed  man  in  the  western  city  of  M . 

It  grows  late,  but  still  he  keeps  his  place; 
there  is  a  step  near  him  ;m<l  lie  incidentally 
turns  and  meets  the  gaze  of  a  stranger,  bearded 


Captain  Randolph.  15 

like  himself.  Approaching,  he  asks,  in  an  in- 
sinuating' voice : 

"Is  this  not  Captain  Randolph,  who  was  so 
attentive  to  the  beautiful  Marguerite  Darlington 
at  the  ball  in  Lexington  a  few  years  ago ! ' ' 

The  answer  comes  slowly  and  deliberately: 

"  I  believe  it  is,  sir;  but,  pardon  me,  who  are 
you?" 

"Well,  I  took  the  advantage  of  your  room- 
mate, and  now  I  have  done  the  same  for  you. 
Well!  well,  my  beard  is  my  protector,  as  the 
lapse  of  four  years  has  given  me  this  advantage 
— but,  in  truth,  I  am  the  Van  Horton,  whom 
Miss  Sadie  Carday  introduced  to  yourself  and 
friends.  I  am  glad  to  meet  you,  as  I  am  now 
hurrying  north  from  New  Orleans.  The  Crescent 
City  is  a  little  too  warm  for  my  comfort,  therm- 
ally and  politically,  and  I  long  for  home  and  a 
more  congenial  condition  of  politics ;  but  there 
goes  the  gong;  let  us  sup,  and  over  our  cigars 
this  evening  talk  of  old  times  and  of  those  to 
come." 

Seated  in  the  saloon,  Van  Horton  meets  the 
calm  and  earnest  gaze  of  Randolph,  and  abruptly 
asks : 

"What  do  you  think  of  this  firing  on  Fort 
Sumter?" 

With  a  coolness  born  of  a  spirit  of  contempt, 
engendered   four   years    before,    Randolph   an- 


16  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

swers:  "That  they  meant  business,  and  burnt 
some  powder." 

Quickly  questions  Van  Horton : 

"Oh!  but  I  mean  what  about  the  South,  and 
will  Virginia  go  out?" 

"The  South,"  answers  Randolph,  "I  fear 
means  war.  Virginia  will  be  the  last  to  go  out, 
but  afterwards,  like  her  Washington,  will  be  first 
in  the  war." 

With  the  air  of  one  indulging  in  a  speculative 
soliloquy,  Van  Horton  adds: 

"It  looks  strange,  Randolph;  here  we  are,  two 
good  friends;  we  have  no  quarrel;  we  have 
supped  at  the  same  table,  danced  in  the  same 
quadrille,  and  now  we  are  to  make  ready  to  cut 
each  other's  throats;  and  for  what?" 

"There  you  are  too  hard  for  me,"  answers 
Randolph.  "I  claim  the  right  of  secession,  and 
the  principle  of  States'  Rights,  but  the  policy  of 
secession  I  utterly  condemn  as  the  quintessence 
of  folly.  As  you  Northerners  first  in  everything 
weigh  the  almighty  dollar,  if  you  want  a  cheap 
trade,  in  the  cause  of  humanity,  it  would  take 
an  incubus  from  the  shoulders  of  the  Southern 
slaveholders,  and  cost  millions  less  in  dollars, 
and  thousands  of  precious  lives,  to  follow  old 
England's  example,  purchase  the  slave  and  col- 
onize him  in  his  native  land." 


Memphis.  17 

Stung  by  the  answer,  Van  Horton  retorts,  tes- 
tily: 

"But  your  people  have  degraded  the  flag  of 
our  country,  and  replaced  it  with  another;  in 
fact,  are  inaugurating  a  rebellion,  are  personally 
rebels." 

"Now,  stop  there,"  said  Randolph,  rising  up 
briskly.  "You  misrepresent,  either  from  ignor- 
ance or  from  prejudice,  and  I  will  not  hear  it ; 
we  own  no  parent  government,  as  Washington 
did  Great  Britain,  nor  do  we  call  it  rebellion  to 
differ  with  our  brother ;    and  for  the  future — " 

But  here  the  loud  voice  of  the  steamer's  whis- 
tle, which  effectually  drowned  all  efforts  at  being 
heard,  checked  all  conversation,  and  caused  our 
disputants  to  join  their  fellow-passengers  for- 
ward of  the  cabin,  where  the  view  of  the  bluffs 
of  Fort  Pickering  and  Memphis*,  crowned  with 
its  long  line  of  brick  houses  of  business,  the  tall 
spires  of  its  houses  of  worship  and  its  long  blank 
walls  of  ample  cotton  sheds  greeted  jdie  eyes 
already  grown  tired  of  the  sameness  of  river 
scenery,  of  sand-bar,  snags,  sawyers,  cotton 
fields  and  fringing  willows. 

With  many  bumps,  and  a  river  song  by  the 
crew,  whose  refrain,  "Jee  rang!  oh,  ho!"  was 
given  in  chorus  with  a  will,  and  not  without 
melody,  the  stage  plank  is  lowered,  and  the  pas- 
sengers are  now  leaving  who  have  Memphis  for 


18  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

their  destination.  Slowly  going  up  the  bluff, 
Van  Horton  stopped,  looked  back  and  greeted 
Randolph  with  the  words,  "Gayoso,  I  suppose, 
Captain?" 

"Yes,  answered  Randolph,  I  always  stop 
there ;  the  proprietor,  Cockrell  and  his  boys  are 
old  friends  of  mine." 

"  I  shall  go  there  too,  remarked  Van  Horton, 
if  only  to  stay  long  enough  to  tell  you  where  I 
am  going,  and  say  good-bye."1 

Oppressed  with  the  companionship  of  an  un- 
congenial acquaintance,  Randolph  rather  sneer- 
ingly  answered : 

1 '  Perhaps  the  thermometer  which  stood  so 
high  in  New  Orleans  may  read  a  few  degrees 
higher  here,  and  what  is  said,  had  better  be  de- 
livered in  transitu." 

And  as  they  walked  only  a  few  blocks  dis- 
tance, Randolph  learned  that  Sadie  is  the  affi- 
anced of  Van  Horton;  that  she  has  discarded 
Laurence  Mayne,  who  even  now  has  been  one 
of  the  foremost  to  enlist  in  the  Confederate 
cause,  and  in  her  eagerness  to  vent  her  patriotic 
zeal,  has  written  to  her  fiance  Van  Horton  to 
come  back  to  his  native  state  and  enlist  in  the 
ranks  of  its  defenders;  and  winning  glory,  to  be 
rewarded  with  smiles  and  affections  of  his  de- 
voted Sadie. 


Painless  Separation.  19 

' l  Passengers  going  north  by  the  Memphis  & 
Ohio — all  aboard!"  cries  the  porter. 

u  G-ood-bye,  Randolph,  we  may  meet  again; 
who  knows,  and  where!" 

And  the  form  of  Van  Horton  disappeared, 
and  Randolph  observed  nothing,  for  his  back  is 
turned  to  the  rattle  of  the  'bus. 


Chapter   II. 


It  is  a  bright,  sunny  morning,  when  the  young- 
day  is  still  lingering  to  kiss  the  dews  of  night ; 
the  stillness  of  nature  is  only  broken  by  the 
cock-crow  from  the  lovely  valley  resting  so 
peacefully  under  the  shadow  of  the  mountain 
spurs  which  now  interpose  their  heads  to  the 
rising  sun,  waiting  for  the  day-god's  higher 
ascent  to  reveal  its  sylvan  charms,  and  happy 
homes.  Near  the  highway  stood  a  plain  but 
well-kept  cottage;  the  summer  roses  had  not 
all  fallen,  and  the  well-kept  vines  which  clung 
to  the  porch,  lattice  and  tree,  with  potted  plants 
of  fuschia,  heliotrope  and  other  hot-house  growth 
scattered  here  and  there,  showed  the  presence  of 
refinement  and  gentle  woman's  taste. 


20  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

An  old  man  sat  upon  the  porch,  in  gown  and 
slippers ;  a  man  of  eighty  years,  with  bald  head, 
but  above  the  neck,  fringed  with  hair  as  white 
as  snow ;  his  beard  was  long  and  like  that  of  his 
head  was  snow  white ;  he  was  seated  in  a  large 
rocker,  quietly  reading  his  Bible ;  his  good  wife, 
a  woman  of  some  seventy  years  of  age,  as 
straight  as  an  arrow,  with  jet  black  hair  and 
features  lovely  in  her  old  age,  with  hazel  eyes 
which  beamed  love  in  every  glance,  stood  near. 

The  family  servant,  the  only  one  left  after 
their  fallen  fortunes  and  emigration  from  Vir- 
ginia, and  a  member  of  the  family  for  forty 
years,  with  bucket  in  hand,  stood  at  the  front 
gate,  on  her  way  to  the  spring;  but,  hearing 
horse-hoofs  up  the  road,  she  stopped  and  stood 
gazing,  until  a  stranger,  clad  in  gray,  with  his 
old  blue  slouched  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes,  and 
mounted  upon  a  horse  which  looked  able  to  dare 
and  do  what  his  master's  rein  and  spur  directed, 
drew  up  alongside  of  the  gate,  and  with  a  gently- 
spoken  "Whoa!"  looked  into  the  old,  familiar 
face  and  said : 

' l  Mammy,  is  this  the  way  you  welcome  your 
baby?" 

The  bucket  dropped;  Randolph  was  hauled 
from  his  steed,  and  with  such  expressions  as 
"MyG-od!  that  I  shouldn't  know  my  child!" 
was  hugged  and  kissed  and  thumped  in  the  back 


\r 


MAMMY'S  SURPRISE. 


A  Colored  Mammy.  21 

by  his  good  old  black  mammy,  until  rescued  by 
his  mother  and  father,  who,  in  their  quiet  way, 
by  gentle  effort,  came  to  the  rescue,  and  wel- 
comed their  boy  with  smiles  and  kisses  and 
loving  words. 

With  the  appearance  of  the  youngest  child,  a 
girl  of  sweet  sixteen,  a  bright  and  happy  mortal, 
with  the  figure  of  a  goddess  and  a  face  to  match, 
lovely  lips  and  laughing,  blue  eyes  and  bonnie, 
brown  hair — the  pet  sister  of  our  hero,  the  clamor 
of  tongues,  inquiring,  admiring  and  wondering, 
would  have  upset  and  silenced  a  man  of  even 
sterner  stuff  than  our  hero. 

''Well,  Master  Phil,  honey!  you  did  fool  me 
that  time  sure,"  says  mammy,  and  off  she  goes 
into  one  of  those  stereotyped  laughs,  that  was 
as  dear  to  his  ears,  as  it  had  lingered  always  in 
memory. 

The  good,  old  hands  fondled  his  hand  and 
smoothed  his  hair,  and,  having  caught  her 
breath,  continues: 

"And,  honey,  where  have  you  been?  What 
have  you  been  doing?  So  tall  and  straight,  with 
the  same  kinky  head  of  my  baby  boy! " 

And  while  all  this  is  going  on  the  sister  is  kiss- 
ing the  cheeks  and  lips  of  the  soldier  brother, 
while  the  aged  parents  are  sitting  helplessly 
smiling  and  drinking  in  the  comforting  joy 
begotten  by  the  unexpected  and  happy  return 


22  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

of  their  boy  to  their  hearts  and  home.  But,  ah! 
how  soon  was  that  joy  to  be  changed  to  sadness, 
by  an  absence  shrouded  in  the  smoke  of  battle 
and  poisoned  by  the  raids  of  ruthless  robbers. 

" My  son,"  says  the  father,  "I  see  that  you 
have  on  our  color,  but  where  is  your  command 
and  what  is  your  rank  \ ' ' 

Randolph  answers  that  he  is  captain  on  staff 
duty,  but  now  on  special  service  to  Columbia, 
South  Carolina. 

"But,  tell  me,  father,  how  do  you  like  the 
mountains  of  Tennessee?" 

"You  understand,  my  son,"  answers  the  old 
man,  "that  this  is  East  Tennessee,  and  there  are 
many  ignorant  mountaineers,  who  are  not  pat- 
terns of  nobility  in  any  sense,  and  they  claim  to 
be  good  Confederates,  when  our  troops  hold  the 
country,  and  are  equally  positive  that  they  are 
good  Federals  when  the  Yankees  are  here ;  they 
are  robbers  at  heart,  and  I  expect  to  contribute 
to  their  rapacity,  but  not  without  an  effort  of  my 
old  arms  to  protect  my  own ;  but  tell  us  of  the 
news ;  we  are  twelve  miles  from  the  railroad,  and 
news  by  letters  or  papers  seldom  reaches  us." 

Randolph  then  proceeds  to  tell  of  the  battles 
around  Fredericksburg;  of  the  second  Manassas, 
of  Sharpsburg,  the  raging  and  gallant  defense 
of  Fort  Sumter,  and  of  Battery  Wagner,  and  the 


Randolph  Hears  News.  23 

sinking  of  the  Keokuk,  much  of  which  he  was 
an  eye-witness  to. 

An  old  soldier  of  1812,  the  eyes  of  the  old 
nian  kindle,  and  eagerly  he  listens  to  every  de- 
tail, but  even  now  we  can  see  the  quiet  look  of 
the  good,  old  mother;  can  see  the  weary  eyes, 
from  whose  pupils  look  a  heart  more  weary,  as 
she  gazes  at  that  never-ending  click,  click,  click 
of  the  knitting-needles,  but  whose  steadfast  look 
was  not  there,  but  far  away  with  her  four  boys, 
following  the  red  battle-flag,  one  of  whom,  her 
gallant  baby  boy,  was  so  soon  to  be  brought 
home  and  laid  away  in  a  soldier's  grave. 

"We  had  the  pleasure  of  a  visit  the  last  time 
the  Yankees  were  here,"  says  his  sister,  "from  a 
Captain  Van  Horton,  and  he  said  that  he  knew 
you." 

"I  know  him,"  remarked  Randolph.  "What 
of  him  ?" 

"Oh,  he  came  with  a  lot  of  tories,  negroes, 
mountain-cats  and  Yankees,  and  one  of  our 
neighbors,  hanging  on  to  their  troop,  wanted  to 
take  my  mare,  Bessie.  Captain  Van  Horton  was 
good  enough  to  prevent  that.  I  have  Bessie  yet, 
and  the  Yankees  may  get  her,  but  the  tories 
never. ' ' 

This  sister,  we  will  here  inform  the  reader,  had 
lately  married,  and  her  home  was  upon  a  beau- 
tiful farm  some  five  miles  distant,  and  midway 


2-1  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

between  her  father's  place  and  the  thriving  vil- 
lage of  Gr . 

A  younger  brother  was  in  command  of  a  bat- 
talion of  cavalry,  whose  duty  it  was  to  patrol  this 
very  section,  and,  by  consequence,  the  family 
was  rather  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  good  Unionists. 

Knowing  his  brother's  dashing  character,  his 
handsome  appearance,  musical  genius,  and  fond- 
ness of  the  society  of  the  ladies v  Randolph  with- 
out hesitation  asked,  "Is  Southey  in  danger  of 
capture  either  by  Yankees  or  by  any  of  the  fair 
damsels  f " 

In  a  moment  a  cloud  descended  upon  the 
group,  as  his  mother  calmly  raises  her  eyes  and 
answers,  "That  between  'that  woman'  and  Cap- 
tain Van  Horton,  Southey  was  not  in  a  position 
to  enjoy  either  his  home  or  the  society  of  ladies. " 

"But  who  is  'that  woman!'  and  what  has  Van 
Horton  to  do  with  it?"  interrogates  Randolph. 

"That  woman,  my  son,  is  the  daughter  of  the 
most  honored  gentleman  of  the  county,  our  friend 
and  neighbor;  she  is  rather  handsome,  and  in- 
telligent, but  it  is  all  distorted  by  the  intensity 
of  her  venom ;  her  very  being  is  absorbed  with 
the  one  idea  of  hate  and  revenge." 

"But  I  pray  you  tell  me,  mother,  her  haunts," 
said  Randolph,  in  mimic  fear,  "that  I  may  evade 
her  poisoned  shafts;   and  does  she  go  armed?" 


A   Woman  in  the  Case.  25 

"Do  not  trifle,  niy  son;  yon  know  the  saying, 
that  hell  hath  no  fury  like  a  woman  scorned." 

"Is  that  the  matter?  Who  scorned  her!"  re- 
torts Randolph. 

"Your  brother,  Southey,"  answers  his  mother. 

"Ah-h-h!  There's  where  the  shoe  pinches," 
and  Randolph  relapses  into  a  revery. 

Click,  click,  click,  goes  the  needles,  and  Ran- 
dolph still  is  silent  and  in  thought. 

The  day  wanes,  the  soldier  currys  his  horse, 
fills  his  trough  with  corn  and  his  rack  with  fod- 
der, and  then  goes  to  visit  his  mulatto  mammy, 
to  talk  of  times  in  Old  Virginia  when  she  bossed 
him,  in  his  happy  childhood  days. 

Seated  upon  her  door-step,  and  enjoying  the 
smoke  from  his  old  briar-root  companion,  Ran- 
dolph asks: 

"Aunt  Rachel,  it's  rather  quiet  down  here,  is 
it  not?" 

"Well,  mostly;"  she  answers,  "but  for  the 
raiders — sometimes  the  Yankees,  sometimes  the 
robbers,  and  sometimes  the  Confederates.  Be- 
tween the  three,  we  have  trouble  enough;  and 
may  the  good  Lord  curse  the  wretches  who  stole 
my  grave-clothes,  all  the  most  beautiful  linen, 
all  packed  up  and  under  my  bed,  when  the 
Yankees  raided  here  last,  and  they  stole  the  lot. 
Thank  God,  old  mistress  saved  her  silver;  for 
your  sister  Lucy  put  on  a  pair  of  Southey' s 
pants  and  climbed  the  big  tree  over  the  house, 


26  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

and  tied  the  things  to  top  boughs  and  saved 
them." 

"Aunt  Rachel,"  says  Randolph,  "tell  me 
about  brother  Southey  and  'that  woman' 
mother  spoke  of,  and  about  a  Captain  Van  Hor- 
ton,  lately  here," 

"Lor'  honey,   (with  a  chuckle)  it   is  such  a 

mix.     You  see  'that  woman'  is  Miss  F , 

(you  know  her,  of  course  you  do),  she  is  dead 
in  love  with  Major  Southey,  and  this  Captain 

Van  Horton  and  Miss  F now  are  very  great 

friends.     You  remember  that  big  school-house 

in  Gr .     It  is  said  that  Southey  unexpectedly 

visits  that  school  one  day,  was  seen  to  leave  in 
a  very  few  moments,  mount  his  horse  and  ride 
away  like  the  wind.  You  know  what  a  horse- 
man he  is;  always  at  home  on  a  horse's  back. 
His  troop  passed  some  weeks  later  and  he  re- 
fused to  recognize  or  return  the  salutation  of  Miss 
F ,  and  ordered  your  sister  never  to  recog- 
nize her.  Now,  honey,  you  know  it  all.  And 
oh,  that  woman's  tongue!  Since  then  she  has 
circulated  the  lie  that  Southey  was  a  coward!" 

"No,  it  cannot  be  that  the  daughter  of  so 
good  a  father  would  stoop  to  slander,"  says 
Randolph. 

"Yes,  son,  it  is  even  so ;  but  people  here  don't 
mind  her  lies,  nor  is  she  even  respected  any 
more;   but  abroad  where  she  is  not  known,  it 


Over  the  Hills  and  Far  Away.  27 

might  hurt,  and  moreover,  she  is  breaking  her 
old  father's  heart." 

Let  us  say  right  here,  for  the  benefit  of  those 
who  might  expect  the  negro  dialect,  that  Rachel 
is  a  true  character,  raised  in  the  dwelling-house 
of  her  white  people,  partaking  of  their  manners, 
customs  and  language,  and  in  pride  of  family 
and  respectful  conduct  would  set  a  bright  ex- 
ample for  many  of  her  unasked,  unwanted  and 
over-zealous  sympathizers . 

After  along  and  pleasant  chat,  Randolph  rises. 

With  a  kindly  "good-night,  and  may  God  bless 
you  child,"  the  old  mammy  closes  her  door,  and 
Randolph  retires  to  his  room,  thoughtful,  sad, 
weary  of  body  and  of  mind. 

Two  more  days  with  the  loved  ones,  and  at 
early  dawn  of  the  fourth  day  he  is  mounted  on 
the  back  of  his  gallant  old  charger,  and  with 
the  warm  kisses  of  affection  still  clinging  to  his 
lips,  and  the  fervent  prayer  for  God's  good 
guidance  on  his  journey  of  all  the  household, 
Randolph  turns  his  horse's  head  towards  the 
road,  crosses  the  mountain,  and  directs  his 
course  up  the  romantic  valley  of  the  French 
Broad,  intending  to  strike  the  railroad  at  Green- 
ville, South  Carolina.  As  he  journeyed,  trouble- 
some thoughts  of  the  loved  ones  at  home 
and  "thatwoman,"  would  crowd  upon  his  mind, 
bringing  worry  and  anxiety,  and  as  the  sequel 
proved,  not  without  cause. 


From  Dust  to  Ashes. 


Chaptee  III. 


Columbia,  South  Carolina,  was  duly  reached, 
and  after  a  stay  of  two  weeks,  Randolph,  with 
one  hundred  and  fifty  men,  detailed  from  the 
camp  near  the  city,  bid  adieu  to  the  city  and 
took  the  cars  en  route  to  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia,  then  encamped  around  Fredericksburg, 
facing  the  army  of  General  Hooker  of  Chancel- 
lorsville  fame,  and  yclept  Fighting  Joe.  Re- 
porting to  his  chief,  he  was  once  again  with  his 
brother  staff  officers,  exchanging  the  news  of 
the  trip  for  the  gossip  of  the  camp. 

The  long,  lazy  body  of  Captain  Noble,  a 
member  of  the  staff,  is  observed  to  move,  and 
with  a  half-awakened  ' '  Hello ! "  he  chants  his 
thoughts :  "  Lo !  the  lost  sheep  is  gathered  to 
its  flock,  and  the  shepherd  rejoiceth,  beholding 
the  contents  of  his  well-filled  haversack,  which 
the  children  of  Jacobaster  hath  swung  upon  his 
neck.  Say,  Randolph,  did  you  not  remember  our 
bowels,  nor  have  compassion  for  the  same,  nor 
even  remember  in  the  days  of  thy  youth  and 
painful  verdancy  that  tjie  juice  of  corn — yea, 
even  of  the  peach  or  apple,  would  please  our 
palates,  and  cause  our  hearts  to  leap  for  joy?" 

11  Come,  Noble,"  answers  Randolph,  "  the  sun 
may  be  held  accountable  for  many  changes  in 


Welcome  to  the  "  Grub-Box."  29 

nature,  but  I  can  swear  that  he  never  painted 
your  nose,  nor  can  even  the  shadow  of  his 
friendly  eclipse  hide  its  roseate  shame.  You 
bear  the  evidence  of  your  own  conviction  of 
living  too  high,  both  in  meat  and  drink." 

Noble  shuts  his  eyes  and  groans  out  in  mock 
agony:  '-'He  is  lost!  lost!  gone  clean  astray; 
been  'living  too  high,'  and  judges  his  betters  by 
himself; "  and  quickly  sitting  up,  he  says,  "I  will 
bet  the  mess  five  to  one  that  Randolph  is  fixed ; 
that  he  has  a  box  and  something  good  com- 
ing; open  up  the  game,  old  boy,  or  I  will  give 
you  away,  for  I  am  the  possessor  of  a  message 
for  you  from  a — a — now  who  do  you  suppose!77 

"  I  know  your  propensity  for  schemes,77  an- 
swers Randolph ;  ' 'play honest,  Noble,  for  I  never 
liked  the  word  '  bribery.7  77 

"My  most  obtusely  verdant  youth,  and  auto- 
crat of  the  grub-box,  keep  on  in  the  error  of  thy 
ways,  the  fool  is  wise  in  his  own  conceit,  and 
when  thou  coolest,  I  will  hearken  unto  thee ;  and, 
further,  I  have  taken  charge,  have  concealed, 
and  preserved,  one  sweet,  little  missive  from  a 
small  village  called  Lexington,  where  thou  did7st 
strut  and  perspire,  with  sword  and  sash  and  a 
high  cock7s  feathers,  as  a  valiant  captain  of  Com- 
pany B,77  and  Noble,  with  a  grand  assumption 
of  dignity  and  nonchalance,  quietly  subsides. 

"I   surrender,77  said    Randolph;    "come  fel- 


30  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

lows,  all  hands ;  I  have  a  box,  and  in  it  a  present 
of  magnificent  French  brandy,  just  through  the 
blockade,  the  pure  stuff;  it  was  given  me  by 
that  generous  patriot,  Mr.  Wagner,  of  the  firm 
of  Trenholm  &  Co.,  of  Charleston,  S.  C. ;  he 
gave  me,  also,  this  elegant  suit  while  in  Col- 
umbia," and  while  the  staff  enjoyed,  the  well- 
filled  box  of  luxuries,  Eandolph  read  the  follow- 
ing letter: 

"  Lexington,  Va.,  March  10,  186—. 
"Dear  Captain:     With  all  our  woes,  none  seem  so  hard 
to  bear  as  the  suffering  of  our  dear  friends. 

"  You  remember  that  on  the  25th  ult.  your  room-mate, 
Robert  McKene,  was  to  have  been  married  to  his  long- 
loved  sweetheart,  Miss  S .    News  has  reached  us  that 

he  was  killed  at  the  head  of  his  men,  cheering  them  to  re- 
pel a  surprise.  I  know  that  you  loved  him  well,  for  he  was 
so  true  and  brave,  yet  so  gentle,  and  for  this  I  suffer  more, 
because  I   know  how  your  heart  will   bleed.     Poor  Miss 

S is  almost  distracted  with  grief.     May  a  merciful  God 

bring  comfort  to  a  stricken  heart,  and  teach  her  to  trust  to 
His  mercy. 

"Can  you  come  and  see  us?  We  will  be  so  happy  to  look 
upon  your  face  once  more. 

"Wishing  you  all  manner  of  good  fortune  in  battle  and 
in  camp,  I  am,  as  ever,  Your  affectionate 

Marguerite." 

The  first  one  of  the  three  shot  dead!  The 
noise  of  the  mess  fell  discordantly  upon  his  ears ; 
but  with  the  sweet  words  of  his  best  loved  before 
his  eyes,  his  mind  was  in  part  withdrawn  from 
the  contemplation  of  the  loss  of  his  friend,  and 


News  of  the  First  Killed.  31 

just  then  the  deep,  sullen  roar  of  a  piece  of  artil- 
lery, as  its  echoing  sound  faintly  died  away, 
brought  vividly  to  his  mind  the  fact  that  they 
were  soldiers,  and  a  soldier  had  but  to  die  when 
duty  called. 

With  a  heavy  heart  he  joined  the  mess,  and 
filling  his  glass,  he  turned  to  his  brother  officers, 
and  with  eyes  bedimmed  with  tears,  and  a  heart 
too  full  for  utterance,  he  drank  to  the  last  drop 
in  the  glass. 

"Did  she  saw  you  off,  old  boy!"  questions 
Capt.  Noble. 

"Read!"  answers  Randolph,  as  he  threw  the 
note  in  their  midst. 

After  reading,  it  was  remarked  by  several  that 
they  were  aware  of  the  fact,  many  days  before ; 
that  it  was  but  the  fate  of  war:  "One  of  us 
may  go  to-morrow,  still  the  army  will  march  and 
counter-march,  the  flags  will  flutter  as  merrily 
in  the  breeze,  and  the  war  will  go  on  all  the 
same,  and  the  dead  forgotten." 

So  they  descant  upon  the  news,  until  the 
cheery  voice  of  Captain  Noble  is  heard  saying : 

"Cheer  up,  old  man;  you  don't  smoke,  we 
do,  so  we'll  destroy  your  weeds,  while  you  im- 
bibe. Attention!  fill  up,  let  joy  abound!  And 
now,  Randolph,  I  will  give  you  the  promised 
message.  Your  friend,  Lawrence  Mayne,  rode 
over  from  the  11th  Virginia,  and  joined  us  in 


32  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 

our  magnificent  repast — menu:  bread,  coffee, 
meat.  He  wanted  to  see  you  bad,  real  bad;  he 
seemed  to  be  rather  in  the  dumps,  you  know  the 
dumps — upset,  as  it  were.  He  says  that  he 
wants  you  to  send  a  courier  over  to  him  to 
notify  him  as  soon  as  you  arrive.  Now,  save 
him  a  wee  drop  of  that  French  soothing  syrup, 
and  you  brace  him  up  and  save  his  soul." 

And  with  like  chaff  of  the  mess,  the  evening 
passes  away,  and  one  by  one  each  rolls  down 
his  blanket,  and  the  sullen  boom  of  a  Yankee 
gun,  now  and  then,  only  mars  the  stillness  of 
the  night,  but  fails  to  disturb  the  slumbers  of 
the  staff  around  the  tent  of  Cfeneral  R . 

The  next  day  dawns  brightly,  and  as  soon  as 
breakfast   is  finished   a  courier  is  sent   to   the 

camp  of  General  G ,  with  the  "  Compliments 

of  Captain  Randolph,  and  would  Adjutant 
Mayne  please  call  at  the  headquarters  of  Gen- 
eral R ?" 

The  bugle  was  just  sounding  the  dinner  call 
when  Adjutant  Mayne  entered  .Randolph's  tent, 
with  a  smile  upon  his  face,  but  oh!  the  sadness 
of  that  smile.     Extending  his  hand,  he  says: 

u Welcome!  and  the  lost  is  found,  and  now 
we  will  kill  the  fatted  calf,  call  in  our  gray- 
backed  cherubs,  and  let  us  make  merry.  Tell 
us  first  the  news  of  home,  and  of  Marguerite; 
did  you  see  her?" 


Mayne  Tells   What  He  Knows.  33 

"No,  indeed,"  answers  Randolph;  "Cupid 
hides  his  bow  when  Mars  issues  his  stern  com- 
mands.    Of  home  I  am  troubled." 

Adjutant  Mayne,  speaking  slowly,  if  not  sadly, 
says: 

1 1  When  you  mentioned  trouble  I  am  reminded 
of  the  object  of  my  visit,  perhaps  to  further  bur- 
den you.  Hooker  is  across  the  river;  our  scouts 
tell  us  of  the  massing  of  men,  as  if  the  whole 
Yankee  nation,  with  Europe,  Asia  and  Africa 
to  aid  them,  was  enclosing  us  poor,  hungry  and 
ragged  few  in  its  embrace ;  and  before  we  l  mix ' 
with  them  I  want  to  talk  with  you,  as  we  did 
when  'rats'  in  old  No.  17  at  the  V.  M.  I." 

"G-o  on,  Lawrence;  I  am  all  attention,"  an- 
swers Randolph. 

Mayne  asks:  "Do  you  remember  that  fellow 
Van  Horton!" 

Randolph  nods  affirmatively. 

"Well,"  continues  Mayne,  "that  man  is  not 
of  this  country  at  all,  but  a  miserable  importa- 
tion from  Europe,  and  is  both  robber  and  spy; 
under  the  garb  of  a  Federal  captain  when  play- 
ing soldier,  and  Mr.  Hobson  as  spy." 

"Really,  you  astonish  me!"  answers  Ran- 
dolph. "Where  do  you  get  your  information?" 

"An  exchanged  prisoner  brought  me  a  note 
from  dear  little  Sadie,"  answers  the  adjutant, 
telling  me  of  the  impostor  and  scoundrel ;  that 


34  From  Dust  to  Aslies. 

her  father,  knowing  his  disreputable  character, 
has  requested  his  absence  from  his  house,  and 
that  she  had  admired  his  fine  appearance,  but 
never  loved,  and  now  despised  him;  that  she 
was  my  own  littte  sweetheart,  and  by  the  help  of 
friends  and  gold,  was  coming  down  to  the  home 
of  Marguerite  to  be  in  easy  reach,  where  I  could 
visit  her  when  duty  allowed.  Now,  isn't  that 
delighful!  " 

u  Yes,  it  is  delighful,"  answers  Randolph, 
' '  but  what  has  that  to  do  with  the  long  face  that 
you  are  wearing!  " 

1  l  Oh !  now  you  have  me ;  it  is  so  good  of  her, 
the  sweet  little  Yankee  darling,  to  leave  home 
and  friends,  and  come  away  here  in  this  starving 
country,  for  what!  Only  to  see  me.  It  is  so 
much  happiness,  that  it  seems  unnatural,  and  it 
oppresses  me,  and  I  fear,  yes  and  even  tremble 
lest  I  shall  lose  it." 

After  thus  speaking,  Adjutant  Mayne  seems 
absorbed  in  gloomy  forebodings. 

"  Look  here,  Mayne,"  says  Randolph,  "you 
are  dyspeptic."  Noble,  and  all  the  mess  in  fact, 
foresaw  the  need  of  a  tonic,  and  the  same  is 
now  provided,  and  by  the  help  of  my  right 
bower,  the  Jack  of  Spades,  we  will  proceed  to 
test  the  efficacy  of  the  dose.  "  Here  Jack,  you 
black  rascal ! "  (a  trim  young  negro  appears); 
"bring  fresh   water   and    two    glasses.      Now, 


Pelham  Appears.  35 

Lawrence,  here's  a  health  to  all  good  lassies, 
and  our's  especially;   down  she  goes." 

"Randolph,  do  yon  ever  see  the  dark  side  of 
anything  ? ' ' 

"The  clown  must  keep  the  audience  merry,  if 
his  darling  babe  lies  at  home  dying  in  its 
mother's  arms,"  answers  Randolph :  "and  I  ad- 
vise you  further  to  brace  up,  and  if  fortune  or 
misfortune  puts  the  robber  or  spy  into  our  pos- 
session, we  will  not  have  to  look  very  far  for  a 
halter." 

As  the  word  "halter"  is  spoken,  a  small  and 
slender  young  man,  with  a  bright  face,  with  light 
hair,  and  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  an  artillery 
officer,  suddenly  appears  before  the  two  speakers, 
and  curtly  asks:  "Who  wants  a  halter?  I  have 
plenty  for  such  work,  and  may  have  use  for  less 
in  a  day  or  two." 

The  speaker  is  Captain  Pelham,  already  known 
to  fame,  and  an  ex-cadet  of  the  V.  M.  I. 

"Why,"  says  Randolph,  "what's  up?" 

"Don't  you  know,"  goes  on  Pelham,  "that 
Hooker  has  crossed  the  river,  both  the  Rapidan 
and  Rappahannock,  and  is  in  Chancellorsville, 
and  is  fortifying  ?  I  saw  Old  Stonewall  and  Massa 
Bob  hobnobbing  awhile  ago,  and  we'll  hear  the 
music  of  the  brass  band  before  many  hours. 
You  both  are  in  it,  for  yon  both  are  with  Rodes, 
and  he  and  Stonewall  are  too  much  alike  not  to 


36  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

be  first  in  the  fray.  But  I  am  in  a  hurry;  just 
stopped  in  to  give  you  a  hint.     Load  up." 

"We  have,  in  another  way,  and  have  a  charge 
for  you.    Come,  stand  in,  and  here's  to  victory ! ' ' 

This  announcement  put  an  end  to  further  con- 
versation, and  the  friends  separate  in  quest  of 
further  news.  Pelham  goes  straight  to  meet 
Averill  at  Kelly's  Ford  and  drive  him  back,  and 
then  to  give  up  his  young  life,  a  sacrifice  upon 
the  altar  of  his  country  on  that  memorable  17th 
day  of  March,  1863. 

The  days  roll  by,  but  now  all  is  bustle  and 
hurry ;  the  couriers  flash  by  on  errands  of  haste ; 
long  lines  of  veterans  clad  in  gray,  with  bayonets 
glistening  in  the  sun,  stand  in  readiness  for  the 
conflict ;  now  and  then  is  heard  the  sharp  report 
of  the  picket  as  he  cautiously  feels  the  way  for 
the  masses  in  blue  behind  him,  and  high  above 
all  is  the  roar  of  the  big  guns ;  for  on  this  29th 
day  of  April,  20,000  Federal  troops  have  crossed 
the  Rappahannock  River,  and  now  threaten  the 
right  and  rear  of  Lee's  army  at  Hamilton's 
Crossing.  This  effort  at  a  diversion  falls  a  flat 
failure,  for  Lee  well  knows  that  the  bulk  of  the 
Yankee  army  is  at  Chancellorsville  and  well  en- 
trenched. 

If  it  was  the  inspiration  of  Hooker  to  attract 
attention  to  the  Confederate  right,  and  then  to 
move  out  of  his  fortified  stronghold  upon  Lee's 


Chancellors  ville.  37 

left,  and  to  double  up  his  army  and  crush  it,  or 
drive  it  into  the  river  by  the  sheer  force  of  his 
masses,  perhaps,  acting  upon  the  old  maxim, 
similia  similibus  cwantur,  caused  Lee  to  put  into 
execution  the  tactics  so  feebly  undertaken  by  his 
opponent. 

Leaving  one  division  of  Jackson's  corps  to 
watch  the  movement  of  the  20,000  under  G-eneral 
Sedgewick,  Lee  hurries  with  Jackson,  who,  mov- 
ing the  three  remaining  divisions  of  his  corps, 
namely:  Rodes,  A.  P.  Hill  and  Colston,  which 
joining  Anderson,  already  at  the  Tabernacle 
Church,  five  miles  from  Chancellorsville,  pro- 
ceed to  "attack  and  repulse  the  enemy,"  as  per 
order  of  the  Commander-in-Chief. 

Anderson  with  his  command,  as  gallant  and 
true  and  steady  as  the  Old  G-uard  of  Napoleon, 
deploy  with  their  faces  towards  Chancellorsville, 
and  sweep  forward  to  meet  the  trained  regulars 
of  the  United  States  army,  under  Sykes,  and 
force  them  back,  with  all  their  vaunted  prowess, 
to  the  music  of  that  "rebel  yell"  which  had 
quickened  the  pulses  and  oftener  the  heels  of  the 
blue-coated  soldiery,  from  the  First  Manassas 
down  to  the  present  time. 

Jackson,  throwing  forward  to  Anderson's  re- 
lief the  four  brigades  of  Lane,  Heth,  Ramsour 
and  McGrowau,  continued  to  press  the  enemy 
back  until  reaching  the  enemy's  first  line  of  in- 


38  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 

trenchments,  which  had  been  masked  until 
reached,  owing  to  the  density  of  the  growth  of 
timber ;  and  finding  the  day  far  spent,  a  halt  was 
called,  and  the  army  was  bivouacked  about  two 
miles  from  Chancellorsville.  In  the  short  time 
the  Federal  forces  had  occupied  Chancellorsville 
they  had  shown  an  activity,  energy  and  enter- 
prise, thoroughly  in  keeping  with  their  universal- 
ly accorded  reputation  of  go-aheadativeness,  but 
betraying  by  their  beaver-like  energy  of  turning 
up  the  earth,  felling  trees,  planting  abattis,  etc., 
that  "protection"  was  the  desideratum,  and  the 
cutting  off  of  Lee's  retreat  when  so  ceremo- 
niously "bagged,"  the  airy  dream  of  a  newly 
fledged  "Correspondent. ' ' 

Many  a  jolly  Confederate  veteran  wondered  at 
the  magnitude  of  labor  performed  by  soldiers 
who  had  the  world  to  feed  them,  and  the  world 
to  replenish  their  shattered  ranks.  To  cut  off 
the  line  of  Confederate  retreat,  General  Hooker 
had  very  thoughtfully,  for  the  emergency  Df  an  as- 
sault from  the  direction  of  Fredericksburg,  by  a 
double  line  of  works  in  the  shape  of  two  sides  of  a 
rectangle,  one  side  running  north  and  south  and 
facing  Fredericksburg,  and  crossing  the  main  road 
between  the  two  places,  and  the  other  side  perpen- 
dicular to  it  facing  south,  with  front  to  the 
timber  called  The  Wilderness,  and  its  rear  parallel 
to  the  river.     In  a  council  of  war  it  was  decided 


Chancellor sville.  39 

upon,  on  the  part  of  the  Confederates,  that  by 
reason  of  the  impregnability  of  Hooker's  posi- 
tion and  the  disparity  of  forces,  a  front  attack 
should  be  abandoned,  and  more  especially  from 
motives  of  humanity. 

But  a  man  was  there  who  never  turned  his 
back  when  a  fight  was  on,  and  Stonewall  Jack- 
son, the  stern  old  warrior,  whose  frown  was  a 
volume  of  reproof,  and  whose  smile  stole  the 
heart  and  cheered  the  soul  as  a  rift  of  sunshine 
through  the  clouds  of  despair,  was  the  man  to 
solve  the  problem. 

A  narrow,  crooked  and  unkept  by-road  de- 
bouched to  the  left,  hedged  in  by  an  interminable 
growth  of  vines,  pines  and  scrub-oak,  winding 
westwardly,  then  northerly,  then  westwardly 
again  till  the  old  Brock  road  is  reached.  By  this 
route  and  a  night  march  the  Man  of  Menassas 
proposed  to  flank  the  Federal  Hooker  and  solve 
the  problem  of  "cutting  off  a  line  of  retreat." 

Thus,  while  one  portion  of  the  army  under  Lee 
slept,  Jackson  at  break  of  day,  with  Eodes  in 
front,  followed  by  A.  P.  Hill's  and  Colston's  di- 
visions, was  on  the  inarch  through  the  thicket 
of  The  "Wilderness,  with  the  accompaniment  only 
of  their  own  foot-falls,  and  the  melancholy  calls 
of  the  whip-poor-wills,  who  seem  to  have  espe- 
cially colonized  this  gloomy  thicket. 

Arriving  at  the  Furnace,  and  while  placing  a 


■40  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

regiment  in  position  to  guard  an  approach  from 
a  by-road  from  Chancellorsville  to  that  point,  our 
old  friend  Randolph  meets  Adjutant  Mayne,  and 
after  greetings  they  were  discussing  the  chances 
of  the  hazardous  movement,  when  their  atten- 
tion is  suddenly  attracted  to  a  courier,  who,  dash- 
ing up,  hands  General  Jackson  a  note,  and  with 
cap  in  hand  awaits  his  orders. 

"  That's  General  Stuart's  courier,"  says  Ran- 
dolph, "  now  watch." 

The  note  being  read,  Jackson  raises  his  head; 
there  is  a  kindling  of  the  eye,  the  faintest  trace 
of  a  smile,  and  a  curt,  "Thanks,  my  compli- 
ments to  General  Stuart;  that  will  do  sir." 

And  replacing  his  cap,  the  courier  rides  back 
to  his  command. 

"Ah!  ha!  see  that!"  says  Randolph,  "you 
know  old  Jack  too  long  to  be  unable  to  read  the 
answer  to  the  question ;  if  we  don't  give  them  a 
1  side  wipe  '  after  Jackson's  most  improved  style 7 
I'm  a  tinker."  And  now  having  reached  the 
Brock  road,  they  make  better  progress,  and 
coming  in  sight  of  the  cavalry,  they  passed 
Jackson  and  Stuart  on  an  elevation,  glasses  in 
hand,  examining  the  enemy's  right  flank  and 
rear. 

Knowing  that  every  man  now  should  be  at  his 
post,  Randolph  bids  his  old  friend  "au  revoir," 
and  jestingly  adds,  "we'll  drive  them  across  the 


The  Bout.  41 

creek  and  win  a  furlough,  and  then  we'll  go  to- 
gether to  see — you  know  who,  my  lad.  The 
Lord  be  with  you." 

Adjutant  Mayne,  looking  him  steadily  in  the 
face,  with  a  solemnity  as  unusual  as  it  was  in- 
expressible, simply  answered,  "Amen!" 

And  now  the  time  is  come.  Rodes'  division 
is  deployed;  six  hundred  feet  behind  comes  A. 
P.  Hill's,  a  similar  space  is  Colston's  division, 
both  the  latter  in  column.  As  fast  as  the  men 
can  penetrate  the  thicket  they  advance  upon  the 
unsuspecting  troops  of  the  Federal  left  flank. 

At  fifteen  minutes  past  5  o'clock  Jackson  let 
slip  his  dogs  of  war,  and  if  the  eager  hunter 
chased  faster  or  a  more  demoralized  quarry,  he 
or  they  are  entitled  to  the  blue  ribbon,  over  all 
past  and  present  lovers  of  the  chase. 

The  men  of  Rodes  burst  upon  the  unsuspi- 
cious German  troops  of  Howard,  the  noted  Elev- 
enth Corps  of  Sigel,  who  incontinently  lost  their 
suppers,  and  with  the  joyous  u  rebel  yell,"  and 
the  quickning  crash  of  musketry  and  artillery, 
so  utterly  disorganized  and  demoralized  were 
they,  that  losing  their  heads,  they  rushed  head- 
long to  the  rear,  crashing  into  trees,  reckless  of 
everything  in  front,  but  determined  to  flee  from 
the  wrath  behind. 

Soon  Hill  and  Colston  came  up,  to  add  to  the 
enthusiasm,    and    all    went   over    the   enemy's 


42  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

works,  carrying  confusion  badly  confounded  to 
the  flying  Dutch ;  and  now  mingled  with  the  rush 
of  men,  were  the  maddened  rush  of  riderless  and 
uncontrolled  horses,  battery  wagons,  ambu- 
lances, gun-carriages,  caissons — some  flying, 
some  overturned,  many  poor  brutes  in  harness 
struggling  in  the  helpless  agony  of  death,  either 
by  shot  or  collision — all,  all  one  inextricable 
mass  of  frightened  men  and  brutes. 

Whole  regiments  ran  without  firing  a  gun, 
throwing  away  their  guns  to  facilitate  their 
speed;  madly  seeking  safety  from  the  wrath  of 
the  yelling  Reb. 

Batteries,  in  their  mad  haste,  crashed  against 
tree  or  stump,  were  captured,  and  turned  upon 
the  fleeing  mob. 

Who  could  paint  with  pen  or  brush  the  awful 
stampede  of  that  day,  so  as  to  portray  to  the 
man  of  to-day  the  awful  terror  of  the  fleeing, 
and  the  reckless  chase  for  life  and  safety. 

On,  on  came  the  yelling  Confederates,  plant- 
ing their  volleys  upon  the  backs  of  flying  men, 
even  in  solid  column. 

With  the  incessant  volleys  of  Confederate 
musketry,  men,  horses,  wagons  and  all  the  par- 
aphernalia of  war  were  jumbled  into  such  an 
inextricable  confusion  that  it  seemed  a  panorama 
of  pandemonium,  upon  the  fields  of  Hades, 
with  all  the  aroma  of  its  sulphurous  canopy.    In 


*'f% 


m 


■v.  _j 

■%  > 

■1 '  to 

H  ■  o 

Vf  — i 

--  5  ■■-:>•  _j 


5^1    o 


Mayne  Falls  with  Jackson.  43 

a  word,  as  expressed  by  a  Northern  writer,  "  the 
stampede  was  universal,  the  disgrace  general." 

Until  8  o'clock  p.  m.  the  route  continued  to  a 
point,  where  a  ridge  was  occupied,  one-half  mile 
from  Hooker's  stronghold  at  the  Chancellor 
House. 

Our  two  young  officers,  whom  we  left  about 
to  go  into  action  from  the  Brock  road,  were 
with  their  respective  commands,  and  though 
going  into  the  battle  in  different  divisions,  found 
themselves  together  again,  by  the  intermingling 
of  the  different  commands,  being  so  intent  in 
their  enthusiasm,  that  discipline  gave  place  to 
ardor,  and  for  this  intermingling,  together  with 
the  darkness,  a  halt  was  called. 

If  Jackson,  like  Joshua  of  old,  could  have 
called  a  halt  of  the  sun  for  two  short  hours,  the 
Sixteenth  Army  Corps  of  Hooker  would  have 
had  a  shorter  and  a  different  history  to  record. 

Our  young  friends  met  cordially,  and  were 
exchanging  the  commonplace  greetings  and  con- 
gratulations of  so  successful  a  move,  when 
Mayne  was  called  away  to  carry  a  message  to 
G-eneral  Jackson.  In  the  gloom  of  the  trees,  he 
was  pointed  out  the  direction  of  his  search,  and 
after  many  pulls  and  rubs  of  vines  and  boughs, 
he  came  near  the  person  of  the  General,  when, 
without  any  warning,  or  aDy  conceivable  object, 
the  gloom  lighted  up  with  a  heavy  volley  fired 


44  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

from  the  Confederate  infantry.  Adjutant  Mayne 
fell  badly  wounded,  with  him  many  others,  and 
oh !  sad  day  for  the  Confederacy,  he,  the  idol 
of  the  army,  at  last  lay  crushed  by  the  rifles  of 
his  own  troops ! 

The  pride  of  a  glorious  victory  vanished  from 
the  white  faces  of  his  gallant  men,  and  oh !  the 
wail  that  went  up  from  the  hearts  of  soldiers, 
and  from  thousands  at  the  hearths  of  their 
Southern  homes. 

With  the  left  arm  of  Jackson  went  the  strength 
of  the  right  arm  of  Lee ;  with  his  life  went  the 
hopes  of  thousands  for  future  success ;  but  with 
his  life  as  he  spent  it,  his  deeds  as  he  wrought 
them,  his  patriotism,  piety  and  glory,  all  will 
stand  out  in  history,  in  all  time,  as  a  shining 
example  of  virtue,  honor  and  heroism. 

At  dawn  the  next  morning,  Bob,  the  darkey 
henchman  of  Mayne,  came  to  Randolph  at  the 
outposts,  and  with  tears  and  lamentations,  tells 
him  that  his  master's  horse  was  caught  with 
bloody  saddle,  and  that  he  was  now  hitched  near 
the  hospital  at  the  intersection  of  the  old  turn- 
pike and  the  Grermania  plank  road;  that  no 
one  would  answer  him,  and  that  he  "  knowed 
mvffinV  * 

Sending  the  boy  back  to  the  hospital,  Ran- 
dolph followed  with  many  misgivings.  As  he 
rode  back  over  the  field,  hundreds  of  dead  bodies 


Bob  Finds  the  Wounded.  45 

of  men  and  horses  encumbered  the  ground,  lit- 
erally strewed  with  every  appliance  of  war, 
which  could  be  supplied  by  a  government  en- 
riched by  a  war  of  oppression  and  plunder. 

His  mind  oppressed  with  unwelcome  thoughts, 
Randolph  found  himself  involuntarily  repeating 
that  parting  word,  Amen ;  and  lifting  his  eyes 
discovered  the  ubiquitous  Bob  running  towards 
him,  and  with  a  sickly  display  of  white  teeth, 
saying:  u  I  found  him,  sir!  hurt  bad  and  wants 
you.     I  told  him  you  was  a-coming." 

Arriving  at  the  hospital,  Bob  takes  his  horse, 
and  Randolph  enters  a  shed-room  near  where 
Jackson  lies  in  mortal  agony. 

Upon  an  improvised  bed,  made  of  straw,  and 
covered  with  an  army  blanket,  Randolph  finds 
his  comrade ;  his  &ale  face  with  closed  eyes,  his 
blood-stained  uniform  meet  his  gaze.  Approach- 
ing closer  he  tenderly  lifts  the  hand  of  Mayne, 
when  their  eyes  meet  in  mutual  love  and  sym- 
pathy; no  words  pass  their  lips,  only  a  gentle 
pressure  of  the  hands,  and  the  stillness  is  only 
interrupted  by  the  gentle  tread  of  the  surgeons 
and  their  assistants  hurriedly  attending  their 
anxiously  awaiting  patients.  The  services  of  the 
surgeon  performed,  he  administers  a  simple  nar- 
cotic, and  the  frown  begotten  of  pain  slowly  dis- 
appears from  the  patient's  face,  and  sweet  sleep, 
now  so  near  the  cousin  of  death,  clasps  the  sol- 


46  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

dier  in  its  dreamy  embrace.  While  Randolph 
gently  bathes  his  feverish  brow  and  moistens  his 
lips,  the  surgeon  tells  him  that  Mayne's  wounds 
bear  the  signature  and  seal  of  Death ;  that  they 
are  beyond  the  control  of  a  surgeon's  art. 

Sleep  brings  life  a  short  reprieve,  and  the  suf- 
ferer asks  to  telegraph  to  Lexington  and  see  if 
Sadie  had  come,  and  if  so,  to  come  without  de- 
lay to  Fredericksburg,  to  the  old  Marye  mansion, 
to  which  he  begs  to  be  taken.  The  surgeon 
makes  no  objection,  and  Randolph  hurries  away 
to  obey. 

Returning  eastwardly,  he  finds  Hooker  beaten 
back  across  the  Rappahannock,  the  woods  still 
smoking,  where  the  wounded  and  the  dead  were 
caught  in  its  cruel  grasp  on  the  day  succeeding 
Jackson's  wound,  and  pushing  on,  found  Lee 
driving  Sedgwick  back  in  confusion  across  his 
pontoons  at  Banks'  Ford ;  and  in  a  gloomy  rain 
sat  himself  down  to  await  the  answer  to  his  dis- 
patch. 

After  long,  weary  hours  the  welcome  message 

came :  "Lexington,  May  7,  1863. 

ilCapt.  Phil.  Randolph, 

"Care  Gen.  R.  E.  R.,  Fredericksburg,  Va.: 
"We  start  immediately:  meet  us  at  train. 

"Marguerite." 

Mounting  his  horse,  Randolph  returns  with  an 

ambulance,  and  twelve  hours  later  his  friend  is, 

after  a  tedious  trip,  resting  in  the  house  whose 


Old  Marye  Mansion.  47 

name  is  a  synonym  of  valor  and  virtue  in  the 
home  circles  of  Fredericksburg  and  in  the  com- 
mand in  which  the  name  has  served. 

In  the  quietness  of  the  evening,  the  old  Marye 
mansion  looks  over  the  town,  now  rent  and  torn 
by  shot  and  shell,  but  within  its  walls,  there 
hovers  a  spirit  whose  restlessness,  expressed  in 
long  drawn  sighs,  quick  and  eager  scanning  of 
the  door,  tell  of  an  unquietness  born  of  a  knowl- 
edge that  certain  things  have  a  certain  limit,  and 
that  limit  is  final  and  unalterable. 

Trains  have  a  schedule,  but  "military  neces- 
sity" side-tracks  and  holdovers  disorder  the  best 
regulated ;  and  after  hours  of  impatient  waiting, 
inquiries  unnoticed,  or  unanswered,  a  long  whis- 
tle is  heard,  and  a  train  comes  in  with  its  wheezy, 
overworked  engine.  But  horror  of  horrors!  in 
the  box  cars  are  huddled  infantrymen,  whose 
heads  are  poked  out  of  every  available  hole,  and 
who  chaff  every  one  without  regard  to  color,  rank 
or  previous  condition. 

About  to  turn  away  in  despair,  two  ladies  are 
observed  to  step  from  a  rear  coach,  which  is  at- 
tached for  the  accommodation  of  the  commis- 
sioned officers,  and  a  figure  but  too  well  known 
not  to  be  identified  at  such  a  distance,  causes 
Captain  Randolph  to  hasten  to  their  side,  if  not 
to  comfort,  at  least  to  lessen  the  weight  of 
affliction. 


48  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

Little  is  said,  but  Randolph  in  his  effort  to 
gently  prepare  Sadie  for  the  meeting  desired,  by 
tone  and  action  betrays  his  knowledge,  but  his 
strong  arm  supports  the  drooping  form  till  the 
threshold  is  passed  and  the  outstretched  arms  of 
poor  Mayne  clasp  the  form  of  her  he  had  loved  so 
long  and  well,  and  the  little  head,  still  crowned 
with  the  wealth  of  sunny  curls,  is  hidden  on  his 
neck,  and  with  throbbing  heart  and  aching  tem- 
ples she  pours  out  her  thoughts  in  a  torrent  of 
loving  words. 

"Tut,  tut!"  interposes  good  Doctor  Murdock : 
"don't  murder  my  patient  with  kindness.  Come, 
ladies ;  I  am  prepared  for  you ;  I  know  that  you 
are  hungry  and  tired.  Let  your  maid  bring 
your  sachels.  A  little  rest  for  you  and  my  pa- 
tient, and  upon  good  behavior  you  shall  have 
him  all  to  yourselves." 

With  a  happy  smile,  Mayne,  growing  steadily 
weaker,  sinks  into  a  profound  slumber,  and  as 
Randolph  sits  by  his  side,  with  the  faithful  Bob, 
he  watches  and  notes  the  ominous,  faint,  quick 
breathing,  and  as  night  creeps  on  he  discovers 
by  the  mantel  clock  that  it  is  past  the  hour  of 
midnight ;  that  Bob  is  dead  asleep,  and  that  he 
is  almost  nodding.  The  faintest  sound  of  a 
footstep  startles  him.  Was  he  dreaming?  But 
drifting  again  toward  dreamland,  again  he  is 
aroused  as  if  by  the  opening  of  a  door.     Feeling 


The  Somnambulist.  49 

no  anxiety,  his  pistols  being  near  by  upon  the 
table  at  his  side,  he  picked  up  a  book,  and  had 
just  opened  to  read,  when  again  he  surely  heard 
a  door  open.  Looking  over  the  book — was  he 
dreaming,  or  was  it  a  spirit!  Neither;  for  there 
stood  Sadie,  clad  in  a  robe  of  soft  blue  material, 
with  cuffs  and  neck  trimmed  with  narrow  lace, 
the  beautiful  neck  exposed,  clear  and  white  as 
marble.  She  moved  toward  the  wounded  man 
softly  with  her  slippered  feet,  her  eyes  wide  open, 
but  bent  upon  the  floor.  Grently  kneeling  by  the 
bedside  of  her  lover,  .she  clasped  her  hands,  and 
bent  her  head,  in  the  position  of  earnest,  heart- 
broken supplication;  the  lips  moved,  but  no 
word  escaped  the  lips.  Suddenly  the  maid  hast- 
ily entered,  and  took  the  sleeper  in  her  arms  as 
a  mother  would  her  babe  and  disappeared,  leav- 
ing Randolph  still  wondering  and  alone  with  his 
sleepers. 

The  door  had  scarcely  closed  behind  the 
women,  when  an  opposite  door,  opening  upon 
the  main  hall,  was  gently  opened  and  a  man, 
seemingly  of  middle  age,  in  the  garb  of  an  ordi- 
nary countryman,  stood  before  Randolph.  With 
a  nod  and  a  scrape  of  the  foot  he  remarked  that 
he  " supposed  this  a  tavern." 

"You  will  correct  your  supposition  by  retiring 
immediately,"  Randolph  remarked. 

"Well,"  he  answered,  "curiosity  will  git  the 


50  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

advantage  of  folks;  but,  I  thought  that  I  might 
find  some  acquaintances ;  and,  stranger,  it  'pears 
like  Iknowed  you,  and  might  know  your  folks." 

Fearing  that  he  would  awaken  the  sleeper, 
Randolph  advanced  towards  the  intruder  un- 
armed, and  when  near  enough  to  lay  his  hand 
upon  him,  the  stranger  quietly  placed  the  muzzle 
of  a  revolver  to  his  head,  saying:  "I  am  Mr. 
Van  Horton,  at  your  service.  I  came  up  on  the 
same  train  with  Sadie.  As  Mayne  is  dying,  I 
will  not  kill  him.  I  will  remember  you  to  your 
brother,  whom  I  shall  meet,"  and  with  a  curse 
for  Sadie,  backed  out  into  the  night,  and  left 
Randolph  trembling  with  rage,  and  stupefied  by 
the  suddenness  of  the  unwelcome  apparition. 

Morning  broke  clear  and  bright,  and  early 
came  the  girls,  and  soon  the  kind  doctor,  with 
a  happy  word  of  comfort  for  all. 

Randolph  spoke  no  word  of  the  night,  nor 
was  the  adventure  of  the  sleep-walker  men- 
tioned. 

Sadie,  with  all  the  loving  care  of  a  mother, 
bathed  the  face  and  hands  of  her  lover,  smoothed 
his  hair  and  softly  kissed  his  lips,  and  placing 
her  chair  so  as  to  face  him,  took  his  hand,  clasp- 
ing it  within  her  two. 

11  Now,  tell  me,  dearest,  how  you  feel?" 

"  Weaker,"  he  answers;  ''notice  my  voice. 
Ah!   sweetheart,  I  dreamed  of  you  last  night." 


A  Last,  Sad  Goad-Bye.  51 

Breathing  a  long-drawn  sigh,  he  continues: 
"We  were  to  be  married,  when  the  black  face  of 
Van  Horton  came  between  ns;  suddenly,  Ran- 
dolph, indignant  at  his  action,  slew  him  like  a 
dog;  'twas  only  a  dream;  but  you  were  mine, 
even  for  the  brief  moment." 

More  faintly,  he  adds:  "Oh!  Sadie,  if  I  could 
only  live  to  love  you,  to  go  back  with  you  to  the 
old  hills  of  Rockbridge,  where  we  first  met,  and 
where  we  first  learned  to  love." 

Poor  Sadie  is  speechless,  and  with  tearful 
eyes  and  agonized  heart,  drinks  in  the  words 
that  may  be  the  last  upon  earth. 

Feverishly,  he  continues :  ' '  You  will  think  of 
me,  dear,  and  come  to  see  the  sod  that  covers  a 
heart  always  true  to  one  little  Yankee  worth  all 
the  treasures  of  earth,  and  the  adoration  of  a 
worthier  heart  than  mine  ' ' — and  for  the  first 
time  he  tries  to  raise  up,  but,  grasping  at  the 
empty  air,  he  groans  most  sadly.  Only  a  shud- 
der, and  all  is  still. 

The  patient  doctor,  standing  near,  bids  Sadie 
say  farewell.  Clasping  her  arm  around  his  neck 
with  all  the  reckless  abandon  of  love  lost,  she 
kisses  lips,  cheek  and  brow,  murmuring:  "Grood- 
bye,  love,  good-bye! "  until  Marguerite,  who  has 
been  a  suffering  but  patient  witness,  leads  her 
away. 


52  From    Dust   tO   Ashes. 


Chapter  IV. 

A  furlough  to  accompany  the  dead,  enables 
Randolph  once  more  to  visit  his  family,  now  liv- 
ing in  the  village  of  Gr ,  already  mentioned; 

their  home  having  been  totally  destroyed  by  tory 
robbers.  Striking  across  the  mountains,  he  turns 
his  horses'  head  westward.  The  air  is  cool,  and 
the  May  days  are  cheerful  in  the  bright  gar- 
ments of  leaf  and  flowers  of  Spring,  while  the 
now  unlimited  birds  sweep  before  and  around 
him  in  notes  made  sweeter,  no  doubt,  from  a 
sense  of  greater  security  from  fright  and  pursuit. 
At  home  on  horseback,  Randolph  rides  not  hur- 
riedly, because  next  to  self — his  horse;  they 
have  ate,  slept  and  suffered  together;  and  now 
as  it  grows  dark  he  approaches  a  neat  country 
residence,  and  riding  to  the  gate  utters  a  loud 
hallo!  and  is  answered  by  a  female  voice,  bid- 
ding him  to  alight  and  come  in,  with  a  cordiality 
native  to  Old  Virginia. 

Observing  the  lady's  sleeves  rolled  up,  and 
believing  that  his  arrival  had  disturbed  her,  per- 
haps in  the  discharge  of  some  domestic  occupa- 
tion, Randolph  courteously  apologized  for  the 
inopportune   interruption   and   begged   forgive- 


Mr.  O'Bowke.  53 

ness,  when  the  lady  smilingly  told  him  that  his 
anxiety  was  wholly  unnecessary  and  uncalled 
for,  as  she  was  only  doctoring  one  of  u  Lee's 
miserables,"  and  if  he  wasn't  too  tired,  that  he 
could  come  in  and  help. 

Actuated  more  by  curiosity  than  by  any  de- 
sire to  help,  Randolph  followed  the  lady  to  a 
room,  and  there  found  the  object  of  her  atten- 
tion. A  brawny,  manly  looking  soldier,  lay 
upon  the  bed,  whose  sheets,  as  white  as  snow, 
made  a  vivid  contrast  with  the  dirty,  gray  pants, 
the  old  ragged  shirt  and  heelless  socks  of  the 
man  lying  flat  upon  his  face. 

A  negro  man  stood  near,  holding  a  basin  of 
water,  and  the  soldier's  shirt  being  split  open  in 
the  back,  exposed  a  large  bandage  pasted  to  his 
back,  bloody  and  dirty  from  long  use — this  was 
the  panorama  exhibited  Randolph  upon  entering 
the  room. 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Ruke,"  remarks  the  host- 
ess, " I  have  hastened  back  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  'Tis  all  right,  madam;  but  pardon  me, 
O'Rourke  is  me  name,  and  was  the  name  of  me 
father  before  me,"  and  turning  his  face  to  one 
side  and  towards  Randolph,  after  a  cool  survey, 
he  adds,  "Chancellorsville,"  emphasizing  by  re- 
versing his  arm  and  sticking  out  his  thumb  to- 
wards the  bloody  bandage. 

As  a  cavalryman,  in  a  charge  under  Fitz  Lee, 


54  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

a  fragment  of  shell  had  torn  a  large  flesh  wound 
in  his  back,  which  had  secured  him  a  furlough, 
and  he  was  now  on  his  way  home,  on  Randolph's 
very  route. 

The  good  woman,  with  much  sponging  suc- 
ceeded in  removing  the  old  bandage,  and  care- 
fully cleansing  the  wound  and  making  the  nec- 
essary applications,  at  last  pronounced  the  words 
of  satisfactory  relief  and  accomplishment, 
"  there,  and  don't  you  feel  better?" 

"May  the  blessed  angels  keep  you,  lady," 
says  O'Rourke.  u  Howly  Mother!  it  is  like  a 
bird  I'm  afther  failing,  and  if  me  shoes  had 
better  soles,  I'd  dance  for  your  diversion  an 
Irish  jig  that  would  astonish  the  queen's  own 
cook;  and  spaking  of  the  cook,  I  am  not  so 
tired  as  I  am  hungry.  Master  Bob  is  a  foine 
fighter,  but  as  a  feeder,  he  can't  draw  mutton 
where  there  is  no  sheep,  nor  beef  where  there  is 
no  cattle.  And,  madam,  have  you  a  bit  of  a 
strap,  for  the  cart  that  I  rode  up  here  upon 
jolted  out  the  very  blood  and  breath  of  me  body, 
and  me  waistband  has  grown  six  inches,  or  me 
waist  has  shrunk  seven,  an'  galluses  I  must 
have;  and  by  the  powers  of  Howly  Mary  me 
very  teeth  are  loose  entirely." 

This  harangue  held  the  lady  in  speechless 
wonder,  and  turning  to  one  side,  she  threw  open 
the  door  to  the  dining-room,  displaying  a  well- 


O'JRourke  was  Hungry.  55 

served  table,  shining  invitingly  in  the  light  of 
the  lamps. 

Mr.  O'Rourke's  face  was  wreathed  in  smiles, 
and  so  intent  was  his  eyes  upon  the  table  that, 
not  heeding  the  doorstep,  he  came  near  sprawl- 
ing upon  the  floor. 

Strange  to  say,  Randolph  had  stumbled  upon 
an  aunt  of  Marguerite,  as  he  found  out  through 
Mr.  O'Rourke's  incessant  talk  of  the  late  bat- 
tle, and  the  u  murtherin  scoundrel "  who  fired 
that  bloody  shell  (needless  to  say  the  one  that 
struck  Mr.  O'Rourke),  and  knowing  the  rela- 
tions existing  between  Randolph  and  her  niece, 
also  of  Mayne  and  Sadie,  at  her  request  Ran- 
dolph told  in  detail  of  the  last  rites  of  sepulture 
to  his  deceased  friend  in  the  cemetery  of  his 
family  in  Lynchburg,  of  the  trip  with  Margue- 
rite and  Sadie  to  their  home  in  Rockbridge,  and 
his  short  visit,  made  so  by  the  grief  of  one  and 
the  sympathy  of  the  other. 

After  a  refreshing  rest,  on  the  next  day, 
O'Rourke  having  secured  an  old  cavalry  Rosin- 
ante,  Randolph  bids  his  hostess  a  thankful  adieu, 
in  which  O'Rourke  joins,  with  many  hopes  of 
meeting  again,  without  any  lessening  in  the  fut- 
ure of  individual  shadows,  they  once  more 
journey  west. 

O'Rourke  proves  to  be  an  agreeable  compan- 
ion and   a  fearless,   dare-devil  soldier.     In  his 


56  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

right  hand  he  swings  a  sturdy  hickory  stick, 
which  is  a  pointer  for  objects  of  his  notice,  a 
propeller  for  his  steed,  a  sabre  for  the  cavalry- 
man, and  a  shillalah  for  the  Son  of  Erin. 

Mr.  O'Rourke  sings,  too,  but  while  his  voice 
is  strong,  it  is  not  sweet,  and  his  tunes  run  from 
one  line  of  ' L  Lorena ' '  to  another  in  ' i  The  old 
grey  hoss  come  a-rushin'  froo  de  wilderness." 

On  one  occasion  the  word  "Wilderness" 
seemed  to  revive  some  recollections  of  Mr. 
O'Rourke,  and  he  asks:  "And,  Cap.,  do  you 
mind  that  bloody  bush  in  The  Wilderness?  How 
in  the  devil  the  boys  got  through  it  wid  their 
clothes  on?  The  horse  and  meself  were  hung 
up,  tripped  up  or  down,  and  I  was  just  enjoying 
meself  when  I  felt  the  stroke  in  me  back." 

"Don't  repeat  that  any  more,  O'Rourke," 
says  Randolph;  "but  tell  me,  did  you  leave  the 
heels  of  your  socks  at  Chancellorsville!" 

"No,  begorra;  but  I  left  skin  enough  to  patch 
them,"  he  answers,  laughing  loudly  and  joyously 
at  his  own  misfortunes. 

Many  miles  had  been  ridden,  long  hours  had 
passed,  and  after  a  profound  silence,  interrupted 
only  by  the  hoof -falls  of  the  horses,  O'Rourke 
slowly  arouses  from  his  seeming  apathy,  and  as 
with  the  sudden  birth  of  an  unusual  thought, 
asks: 

"And,  Captain,  is  it  married  you  are?" 


Two  Soldiers  on  the  Road.  57 

"lam  not  so  fortunate  as  yet,"  he  answers. 

''But  you  have  a  gir-ral,  I  am  after  think- 
ing," retorts  O'Rourke. 

''And  why  do  you  think  so,  pray?"  asks  Ran- 
dolph. "Do  I  sigh  and  sing  love-songs  in  your 
presence,  or  talk  in  my  sleep?" 

k*My  experience,"  says  O'Rourke,  "about  the 
sighing  and  singing  is  limited,  but  sure  you  must 
have  a  slight  cross  of  the  Yankee,  whin  you 
make  a  guess ;  for  in  your  slape  last  night  you 
called  'Marguerite!'  and  unless  she's  your  sister, 
bedad  she  must  be  your  gir-rul ; ' '  and  a  laugh 
with  the  ring  and  force  of  true  enjoyment  fol- 
lows the  unfolding  of  the  burden  of  last  night's 
discovery. 

Unable  to  control  his  feelings  and  his  surprise, 
and  blushing  to  his  brows,  Randolph  tells  him 
of  his  betrothed;  and  having  exhausted  his 
theme,  has  unexpectedly  excited  a  feeling  of 
sympathy  in  the  breast  of  the  sturdy  soldier, 
which  begets  a  desire  upon  the  part  of  O'Rourke 
to  pour  into  the  ears  of  his  superior  his  own 
marital  troubles. 

"I  have  meself  some  expariance  in  the  mat- 
rimonial market;  Oi'm  married,"  drawls 
O'Rourke,  in  a  meditative  mood. 

"Indeed;  let  me  congratulate  you — " 

"Sh — top,  Captain,  if  yer  plase,"  cries 
O'Rourke;   "I've  a  wee  bit  to  tell  ye.     I  was  on 


58  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

the  Aist  Tinnessee  and  Virginny  railroad  worruk- 
in'  on  a  fill  in  a  beautiful  valley.  Close  to  our 
shanty  ould  man  Dobbins  had  as  swate  a  little 
farrum  as  iver  yer  eyes  was  laid  upon.  Sure  it 
was  a  divarsion  to  survey  the  primises;  and 
afther  buthermilk,  as  an  excuse,  I  wint  to  the 
house,  and  making  noise  enough  with  the  help 
of  the  flop-eared  house  dogs  to  scare  a  banshee, 
there  came  to  the  dure  as  swate  a  lass  as  iver 
blessed  the  eyes  of  man.  I  got  the  buthermilk 
and  a  fluttering  under  me  jacket,  and  all  night 
long  I  dreamed  of  buthermilk  and  the  darling 
Kitty  of  the  Dobbins'  house.  Howly  Moses!  I 
was  struck! 

"My  ould  folks  ran  the  boarding  shanty  on 
the  worruk,  close  by,  and  with  the  hilp  of  the 
ould  lady,  who  was  a  grate  admirer  of  the  farrum, 
if  the  gir-rnl  was  a  Protestant,  we  were  married, 
and  a  jolly  jubilee  it  was.  And  we  were  gitting 
along  pretty  well  up  to  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war.  The  ould  man  Dobbins  and  his  wife  were 
Union,  Kitty  and  I  Secesh.  Sometimes  the 
Yankees  would  overrun  us,  thin  we  were  all 
Union ;  thin  the  Confiderates  would  swarm  upon 
us,  in  that  avint  we  were  all  Confiderates;  it  was 
the  tormint  of  our  lives,  but  it  kept  pace  in  the 
family.  But  worse  was  to  come,  and  the  divil's 
own  hand  in  it.  Kitty  she  gits  converted.  As 
long  as  she  was  not  converted  into  a  nagur  or  a 


OiBowrWs  Courtship.  59 

Yankee,  I  didn't  moind  it.  Well,  thin,  up  she 
goes  and  enlists  in  the  Baptist  Church,  for  the 
war,  I  suppose. 

"You  know,  and  maybe  you  don't,  but  my 
folks  are  Roman  Catholics,  and  I  am  naythur 
Catholic  nor  Baptist. 

"The  ould  wimmin  began  it,  and  the  young 
ones  jined  in  afther  the  ould  ones  got  out  of 
breath  entirely.  Sure  it  was  religion,  the  praist 
and  the  parson  they  were  rowing  over.  The 
very  bones  of  me  ache  whin  I  think  of  it. 
There  was  Kitty's  Ma  and  my  Ma,  and  the  rest 
of  the  wimmin,  and  sure  it  is,  I  heard  more  of 
infant  baptism,  immersion,  conversion,  subver- 
sion, falling  from  grace,  of  Howly  Mary,  Father 
Riley  and  Pastor  Parker,  until  I  was  crazy  wid 
the  talk.  I  didn't  know  a  divil  of  a  word  what 
version  was  best,  whether  Riley's  or  Parker's,  or 
whither  it  was  disgrace  or  afther  grace  they  were 
at ;  and  for  six  long  wakes  it  was  the  tormint  of 
me  life. 

"Divil  of  a  word  I  iver  said,  or  they  would 
have,  ivery  one  of  thim,  been  upon  the  top  of 
me  back.  But  for  the  whisky  hid  in  the  straw 
they  would  have  been  the  death  of  me.  But  it 
was  no  use;  the  battle  over  the  infants,  the  wa- 
ter howly  and  unhowly,  got  worse  and  more  of 
it,  till  me  ould  friend,  Dennis  McKelsey,  came 
along  going  to  the  war,  and  mounting  my  horse, 
I  jined  him  for  Master  Bob  and  the  army." 


60  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

Having  reached  a  commanding  point  in  the 
road,  Randolph  interrupts  further  discourse  of 
O'Rourke,  by  pointing  out  in  the  distance  the 

steeples  and  housetops  in  the  village  of  G , 

Tenn.,  now  only  a  few  miles  distant.  Soon 
Randolph  is  once  more  in  the  arms  of  his 
parents,  and  enjoying  the  verbal  as  well  as  culi- 
nary blessings  of  Mammy  Rachel. 

From  her  he  learns  that  Van  Horton  has  sud- 
denly disappeared;  "that  woman"  Miss  F — is 
reported  engaged  or  married  to  him,  and  still 
unceasingly  annoys  and  persecutes  his  brother 
with  slanderous  innuendoes,  even  worries  his  in- 
nocent sister;  and  worse  still,  her  maliciousness 
has  extended  to  his  mother  and  father ;  for  the 
the  fiendish  followers  of  Van  Horton  drove  his 
father  barefooted  in  a  chill  winter  night,  and 
tore  down  his  very  dwelling  from  over  the  heads 
of  his  wife  and  daughter,  and  deliberately  fired 
upon  his  aged  and  defenceless  mother.  He 
learns  also  that  his  brother,  Southey,  came  up 
with  his  command  and  retaliated  upon  several 
of  the  robber  gang,  and  made  things  lively  for 
awhile,  and  now,  like  wild  animals  at  bay,  they 
stand  glaring  at  one  another,  and  Grod  only 
knows  what  next  will  turn  up. 

Randolph  hears  enough  to  make  him  wish  for 
peace,  for  the  sake  of  the  old  folks  at  home; 
but  deep  down  in  his  bosom  there  dwells  a  desire 
for  vengeance.     How  often  in  this  life  does  it 


A  Special  Providence.  61 

appear  that  a  special  Providence  protects  the 
designing  wretch  who  is  brutally  reckless  of 
every  principle  of  right,  of  virtue  and  of  honor ! 
Not  many  days  elapse  before  Mr.  O'Rourke 
and  Rosinante  appear,  considerably  mended  and 
improved,  and  once  more,  adieu  to  home  and 
family  and  on  the  road  to  camp  and  to  duty. 


62  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 


Chapter  Y. 

After  a  long  and  tedious  journey,  our  travelers 
reach  Staunton,  where  O'Rourke  disappears  in 
search  of  his  command,  and  Randolph  eagerly 
seeks  his  own. 

All  was  bustle  and  confusion  of  men  in  every 
style  of  conveyance,  as  well  as  footmen,  eagerly 
pressing  up  the  Valley,  for  the  Army  of  North- 
ern Virginia  has  crossed  the  Potomac,  bent  upon 
the  invasion  of  Yankee  soil,  hitherto  ignorant 
of  the  terrors  of  war. 

Fortunate  in  finding  an  ambulance,  Randolph 
joined  Major  P ,  a  gallant  officer  of  the  ar- 
tillery, and  rapidly  drove  to  overtake  the  ad- 
vancing army. 

Learning  that  Ewell  had  crossed  the  Potomac 
at  Williamsport,  they  hurried  to  that  point,  and 
crossing,  saw  the  first  evidences  of  the  advance 
righting  in  the  many  dead  horses  scattered  upon 
the  banks  of  the  canal. 

After  resting  their  tired  horses,  they  pushed 
on  to  Chambersburg,  and  passed  through  the 
rear  guard,  being  Pickett's  brigade,  and  found 
Col.  Stuart,  an  old  V.  M.  I.  professor,  in  com- 
mand of  the  place.      Here,  for  the   first   time 


Randolph  in  Chambersbwrg .  63 

during  the  war,  Randolph  finds  and  feels  him- 
self upon  the  enemy's  soil.  Soldiers  in  gray 
are  scattered  over  the  streets,  merely  chaffing 
some  of  the  young  ladies  of  the  place,  who,  in 
the  excess  of  their  loyalty,  display  from  their 
bosoms  miniature  specimens  of  the  stars  and 
stripes. 

Standing  at  the  head  of  an  alley,  and  in  front 
of  a  small  two-story  brick  edifice,  over  whose 
door  was  written  bank,  Randolph  notes  across 
the  street  some  of  these  ladies  so  decorated 
passing  through  a  jolly,  loitering  group  of 
Hood's  Texans,  when  a  long-suffering  Johnnie 
observes,  rather  in  the  manner  of  conferring 
knowledge  for  the  good  and  benefit  of  the  deco- 
rated, that  his  command  had  the  unwholesome 
reputation  of  storming  breastworks  when  flying 
the  Federal  flag.  No  answering  reparte  came 
from  the  addressed. 

No  disorder  occurred  in  the  village ;  no  act  of 
outrage  or  oppression  occurred  during  Ran- 
dolph's stay  of  sixteen  hours. 

He  has,  however,  one  remembrance  of  the 
head  of  that  alley.  Hearing  footsteps  descend- 
ing the  stairway  of  that  bank,  he  turned  and 
feasted  his  eyes  upon  a  handsome  young  lady, 
evidently  the  daughter  of  an  official  of  the  bank ; 
but  oh!  how  short-lived  his  happiness,  for  with 
a  toss  of  her  fair,  young  head,  and  an  ominous 


64  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

elevation  of  the  lips  and  the  tip  of  her  nose,  she 
turned  for  his  view  and  edification  a  rear  eleva- 
tion, which  he  admired,  of  course;  but  from  the 
lady's  pantomimic  exhibition,  he  was  left  under 
a  most  disagreeable  apprehension  that  it  was 
either  the  new  gray  suit  he  wore,  or  the  odor  of 
the  naughty  joke  across  the  street  that  caused 
the  facial  disturbance  and  the  sudden  disposition 
to  " about  face." 

There  were  no  improper  liberties  taken,  nor 
unjust  indignities  imposed  upon  the  citizens, 
and  Eandolph,  in  company  with  one  of  the  best 
known  and  most  gallant  artillery  officers,  spent 
the  night  in  the  straw  of  a  stable-loft  upon  this 
very  same  alley  aforesaid. 

On  the  morning  of  July  1st  he  again  enters 
the  ambulance  and  starts  northward,  towards 
Carlisle,  where  they  proposed  to  overtake  the 
command  of  General  Rodes.  Going  three  miles, 
they  ran  into  a  skirmish  between  Confederate 
cavalry  and  Yankee  home  guards.  They  were 
thus  turned  back  to  Chambersburg,  and  drove 
thence  rapidly  on  the  national  pike  straight  for 
Gettysburg. 

About  1  o'clock  p.  m.  they  arrived  at  Cash- 
town,  and  here  was  found  the  headquarters  train 
of  Randolph's  division. 

After  greeting  his  old  companions,  he  rode 
out  to  the  main  road,  where  Gettysburg,  about 


Besting  on  Their  Arms.  65 

five  miles  distant,  could  be  distinctly  seen ;  the 
lines  of  the  contending  troops  also  were  plainly 
visible. 

The  Federal  lines  were  being  driven  rapidly 
back  towards  Gettysburg,  and  Randolph  was 
again  viewing  the  men  of  Rodes  repeating  the 
performance  of  Chancellorsville — chasing  the 
Eleventh  corps  of  Yankee  Dutch  hirelings,  not 
only  from  the  field,  but  to  and  through  the 
streets  of  Gettysburg. 

Night  fell,  the  Confederates  victorious  at  every 
point;  the  Federals  broken  and  disorganized, 
their  trains  driving  to  the  rear,  and  stragglers 
without  number  going  the  same  way.  The  men 
of  Lee,  worn  out  by  long  marches,  laid  down 
upon  their  arms  and  slept. 

All  night  long  fresh  Federal  troops  were  ar- 
riving, and  those  who  had  been  running  turned 
back  when  it  was  discovered  that  none  pursued. 

When  morning  dawned,  the  two  armies  had 
about  mustered  their  strength,  and  were  busily 
engaged  in  disposing  of  batteries  and  brigades 
in  designated  positions. 

The  Confederates  were  disposed  as  follows: 
Ewell's  line  in  and  through  Gettysburg,  extend- 
ing east  and  west  and  facing  south;  A.  P.  Hill 
on  his  right,  his  line  running  north  and  south 
on  Seminary  Ridge  and  parallel  to  Willoughby 
Run  and  facing  east,   with  Longstreet   on   his 


66  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

right  on  the  same  line,  and  facing  the  same 
direction. 

Round  Top  Mountain,  on  Longstreet's  ex- 
treme right,  rose  like  a  huge  sentinel  guarding 
the  Federal  left  flank,  while  the  spurs  and  ridges 
trending  off:  to  the  north  of  it  afforded  unrivalled 
positions  for  the  use  of  artillery. 

The  puffs  of  smoke  rising  at  intervals  along 
the  line  of  hills  as  the  Federal  batteries  fired 
upon  such  portions  of  our  line  as  became  ex- 
posed to  view,  clearly  showed  that  these  advan- 
tages had  not  been  neglected. 

The  thick  woods,  which  in  great  part  covered 
the  sides  of  Round  Top  and  the  adjacent  hills, 
concealed  from  view  the  rugged  nature  of  the 
ground,  which  increased  four-fold  the  difficulties 
of  the  attack. 

Little  Round  Top  was  in  front  of  Longstreet's 
center,  and  Devil's  Den  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  nearer  to  him,  and  about  midway  between 
Big  and  Little  Round  Top. 

About  5  o'clock  p.  m.,  Longstreet's  right 
swept  forward,  and  after  desperate  fighting  car- 
ried these  points — desperate  hand-to-hand  fight- 
ing being  displayed  on  both  sides.  At  the  same 
time  a  portion  of  E well's  corps  charged  the  Fed- 
eral forces  before  the  cemetery,  driving  them  off 
and  capturing  their  guns,  and  even  reaching 
Evergreen  cemetery,  the  stronghold  of  the  en- 


Heavy  Cannonading.  67 

emy's  right;  but  for  want  of  co-operation  the 
movement  failed,  as  did  Longstreet's,  both  fail- 
ures being  the  result  more  from  lack  of  sufficient 
force.  Nevertheless,  night  found  the  advantage 
accruing  to  Lee's  army,  with  Ewell  in  statu  quo, 
and  Longstreet  and  Hill  closed  up  on  the  Fed- 
eral left.  Another  night  to  add  to  a  position 
naturally  strong,  to  add  to  their  force  and  re- 
plenish their  munitions  of  war,  and  Lee  many 
miles  from  his  base  of  supplies  and  with  nearly 
exhausted  caissons. 

But  there  was  one  thing  which  could  be  truly 
said  without  boasting — that  the  Army  of  North- 
ern Virginia  knew  how  to  fight  and  die,  but  they 
knew  not  what  it  was  to  be  whipped. 

The  next  day,  the  3d  of  July,  dawned  brightly. 
A  spirit  of  quietude  pervaded  both  armies,  until 
about  the  hour  of  2  p.  m.,  Randolph,  being  upon 
the  crest  of  Seminary  Ridge,  about  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  south  of  the  National  pike,  heard 
two  heavy  guns  fired  in  quick  succession.  In  a 
moment  there  responds  a  crash  of  artillery,  the 
brazen  voice  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  pieces, 
answered  promptly  by  as  many  more,  together 
with  the  hurtling  of  shot  and  shell,  created  a  vis- 
ion of  awe-inspiring  grandeur  seen  but  seldom 
in  a  lifetime,  and  once  seen  never  forgotten. 

In  a  twinkling  the  heavens  are  obscured;  a 
black  cloud  hangs  overhead,   and  looking  up, 

D  A— 5 


68  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

there  flashes  here  and  there  in  the  sulphurous 
canopy  the  lurid  fire  of  varied  shapes  and  sizes, 
but  looking  straight  to  the  front  and  across  the 
valley,  the  flames  seem  to  rush  from  the  muzzles 
of  the  field-pieces  many  feet  in  length. 

In  the  midst  of  the  infernal  din,  Randolph's 
ear  catches  the  music  of  a  full  brass  band,  which 
he  is  told  is  at  Lee's  headquarters,  but  whose 
sweet  tones  make  him  for  a  moment  forget  the 
terrible  work  of  death  in  front. 

But,  "Look!  look!!"  says  one,  and  with  a 
fearful  explosion,  a  cloud  of  white-looking  smoke 
arises  over  the  cemetery,  "there  goes  a  caisson! " 
In  a  different  direction  the  same  thing  occurs; 
again  a  voice  cries,  "There  goes  another !''  and 
still  the  carnival  of  death  goes  on.  Poor  horses! 
Poor  dumb  creatures!  Subservient  to  the  use 
and  brutality  of  man,  their  destruction  that  day 
was  fearful;  in  one  instance  alone,  as  many  as 
eighty  being  killed  in  a  battery  of  eighty-four. 

At  last  the  cannonading  ceases  as  suddenly  as 
it  begun,  and  there  came  the  climax  of  the  war. 

Acting  under  the  orders  of  Lee,  Longstreet 
gives  the  order  to  Pickett  to  charge,  and  with 
his  brave  Virginians,  he  places  himself  at  their 
head,  and  jauntily  as  on  dress  parade  he  moves 
his  men  over  the  crest  and  descends  the  slope 
with  the  firmness,  coolness  and  decision  of  a  pa- 
rade.    The  enemy  in  their  astonishment  stand 


Pickett'' s    Charge.  69 

transfixed,  but  for  a  moment,  when  admonished 
Iby  a  sense  of  self-preservation,  every  available 
Federal  gun  is  trained  upon  his  devoted  band. 
Fire  front,  both  flanks,  plunging,  and  cross  are 
no  incentive  to  hasten  or  to  unnerve  those  gal- 
lant heroes;  but  steadily  closing  up,  they  press 
forward  with  a  determined,  soldierly  step,  their 
faces  beaming  with  hope. 

Hundreds  of  crimson  battle-flags  fluttered  in 
the  breeze ;  the  long  lines  of  troops  with  bright 
arms  flashing  like  mirrors  in  the  snnlight  were 
pressing  forward  toward  the  enemy. 

Here  was  all  the  "  pride  and  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance of  glorious  war,"  that  has  captured 
and  fired  the  soiil  of  man  in  all  ages,  and  by  its 
dread  illusions  turned  his  finer  attributes  into 
heartless  cruelties,  and  made  the  grim  horrors 
of  this  murderous  art  a  merry-making  allied  only 
to  those  of  devils  incarnate. 

Now,  a  point  is  reached  where  the  rush  is  to 
be  made ;  the  lines  are  closed  up  and  massed  for 
the  plunge.  Here  Kemper  fell;  then  came  the 
dash,  and  with  it  a  clash  of  steel  and  crash  of 
musketry  in  the  very  faces  of  the  opposing  sides. 
Now  falls  the  gallant  Graraett-,  and  with  the 
thrilling  yell  of  the  charging  Confederates  the 
flag  of  the  Confederacy  is  plantad  upon  the 
works  of  the  enemy.  Now  it  is  that  brave 
Armistead   falls,    severely    wounded;     and    the 


70  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

wavering  divisions  supporting,  becoming  panic- 
stricken,  broke  to  the  rear.  Instantly  the  Fed- 
erals poured  their  hosts  upon  Pickett,  fairly 
enveloping  him,  and  crushing  him  with  the 
weight  of  numbers. 

The  Virginians  make  a  brave  effort  with  cold 
steel,  but  are  met  with  a  concentrated  fire  in 
front  and  on  both  flanks.  Still  charging,  never 
dismayed,  under  this  fire  they  seem  to  melt 
away.  They  have  done  all  that  men  could  do, 
and  now  the  remnant  returns,  but  with  their 
faces  to  the  foe,  repulsed  but  not  whipped. 
Slowly  they  returned,  broken-hearted  at  their 
loss  and  failure,  but  covered  with  a  halo  of  glory 
that  will  be  with  them  forever. 

The  Federal  pursuit  was  but  a  skirmish  line, 
which  fell  back  before  a  few  discharges  of  grape 
and  shell. 

And  thus  the  curtain  dropped  upon  Gettys- 
burg. Night  fell  upon  thousands  of  dead  and 
dying,  and  the  fate  of  the  Confederacy  was 
sealed  forever. 

Grrim  death  reaped  from  the  ranks  of  the 
alumni  of  the  Virginia  Military  Institute  a  har- 
vest, ripe  in  all  the  wealth  of  glorious  record  and 
fruitful  example. 

Upon  this  fatal  field,  and  upon  an  area  of  al- 
most insignificant  size,  lay  the  forms  of  five  ex- 
cadets — Stuart,  Patton,  Jas.  Allen,  R.  C.  Allen, 


Night  After  the  Battle.  71 

Williams  and  Edmonds,  all  dead  upon  the  field 
of  battle,  a  mute  attestation  of  their  heroism 
and  their  devotion  to  their  country  and  its 
cause. 

The  stars  looked  down  upon  the  pale,  upturned 
faces  of  many  a  loved  form,  and  Randolph,  with 
"but  a  slight  wound,  came  out  of  camp  with  a 
lantern,  in  search  of  a  missing  friend,  accom- 
panied by  four  privates,  and  passing  through 
the  now  famous  peach  orchard,  goes  directly  to 
the  rock- riven  slaughter  pen  of  the  Devil's  Den, 
meeting  with  men  of  both  armies  engaged  upon 
similar  errands. 

In  the  vain  search  for  his  friend  his  attention 
is  attracted  to  the  indistinct  voices  of  men  be- 
hind a  huge  bowlder,  and  stumbling  over  the 
stones  and  picking  his  way  among  the  dead,  he 
comes  face  to  face  with  the  ubiquitous  Van 
Horton,  holding  in  his  arms  the  limp  form  of  a 
man,  whose  feeble  voice  and  long,  white  locks 
told  of  suffering  old  age.  The  flickering  light 
of  the  lantern  revealed  a  look  of  mutual  recog- 
nition. 

"It  is  an  old  friend,"  says  Van  Horton,  "not 
fatally  hurt,  but  painfully  so." 

Reminded  of  the  gray  locks  at  home,  Ran- 
dolph kneels  by  the  side  of  the  stricken  man, 
and  offers  to  his  lips  his  own  canteen.  A 
draught  and  a  sigh,  and  the  unfortunate  old  man 


72  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

thanks  him  in  the  language  and  manner  of  a 
cultivated  gentleman,  and,  earnestly  scanning 
Randolph's  face,  requested  his  address. 

Upon  receiving  it,  with  his  gaze  still  riveted 
upon  him,  "What?"  he  says,  "Phil  Randolph 
of  Virginia  ? ' ' 

More  surprised  than  he,  Randolph  takes  his 
extended  right  hand,  and  in  mute  astonishment 
listens  to  a  revelation  as  painful  as  it  was  sur- 
prising. 

"Blessings  upon  you,"  said  the  wounded  man, 
"and  now  that  I  am  in  the  hands  of  one  whose 
name  is  a  household  one  with  me,  please,  Capt. 
Van  Horton,  secure  my  removal,  or  find  Major 
Carday,  who  is  near,  that  I  may  receive  medical 
attention.     I  am  safe  with  Capt.  Randolph." 

Van  Horton  is  soon  lost  in  the  gloom,  and  the 
stranger,  continuing,  says:  "I  am  the  father  of 
Sadie  Carday,  and  came  to  the  front  oppressed 
with  the  fear  of  a  mishap  to  my  only  son,  and 
seeing  the  troops  of  Pickett  falling  back,  I 
thought  that  pursuit  would  naturally  follow; 
but  I  found  our  men  in  confusion,  having  suf- 
fered severely  in  the  melee,  when  all  at  once 
your  batteries  opened  to  cover  the  retrograde 
movement,  and  a  stray  piece  of  shell  struck  me 
here,"  placing  his  hand  just  below  his  right 
knee. 

"I  like  not  this  Van  Horton,"  said  Mr.  Car- 


UA  Spy,  I  Presume"  73 

clay,  "but  he  appeared  just  in  the  nick  of  time, 
skilfully  bandaged  my  wound — no  one  paying 
any  attention  to  me  on  account  of  my  citizen's 
attire.  What  brought  him  here,  I  know  not,  be- 
ing unattached,  and,  like  myself,  iu  citizen's 
clothing." 

"A  spy,  I  presume,"  replied  Randolph,  "as 
his  forte  lies  in  that  direction ;  and  that  your 
estimate  of  the  man  is  correct,  allow  me  to 
say  from  my  own  knowledge  that  he  is  a 
scoundrel,  and  a  robber  in  heart  and  in  fact. 
But  tell  me,  is  any  member  of  your  family  near 
you,  besides  your  son?" 

"None,"  he  answered.  "My  daughter  is  now 
a  guest  of  Miss  Marguerite  Darlington." 

Thus  patiently  they  awaited,  until  at  last  the 
sound  of  footsteps  was  borne  to  their  ears,  and 
a  swinging  light  announced  the  looked-for  as- 
sistance. 

With  rapid  steps  Major  Carday  approaches, 
and  casually  nodding  to  Randolph,  laments  his 
father's  unnecessary  exposure,  and  his  unfort- 
unate condition.  Being  introduced,  he  in  a 
most  cordial  manner  grasps  Randolph's  hand 
and  with  a  cheery  "Glad  to  meet  you,  Captain. 
Please  give  us  a  lift  to  the  ambulance  close  by, 
and  we  will  talk  afterwards." 

The  old  man  being  snugly  stowed  away,  the 
Major  turns  to  Randolph,  and  says: 


74  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

"Now  let  me  thank  you;  you  are  what  Sadie 
says,  'the  soul  of  honor,'  and  'one  of  the  best 
fellows  on  earth,'  "  and  drawing  himself  up  to 
his  full  height,  fully  six  feet,  with  his  bright 
face,  dark  hair  and  eyes,  just  the  opposite  of  his 
sister,  he  appears  as  one  who  meant  what  he 
said  and  was  happy  to  say  it. 

With  thanks  Randolph  acknowledged  the  com- 
pliment, and  tells  him  of  his  late  interview  with 
Van  Horton;  about  his  sister's  loss,  of  the  many 
noble  traits  of  the  heart  and  of  the  character, 
and  of  the  gallantry,  and  last,  of  the  love  and 
devotion  of  poor  Adjutant  Mayne  for  the  sweet 
sister  now  with  Marguerite. 

To  all  Major  Carday  listens  with  a  sad  and 
thoughtful  brow ;  now  turning  his  face  he  meets 
the  gaze  of  Van  Horton,  and  as  quick  as  a  flash 
of  lightning  the  tell-tale  frown  of  a  furious  hate 
mantles  his  face.  Randolph  notes  the  recognition 
now  for  the  first  time  of  the  bearer  of  the  wounded 
man's  message.  The  Federal  major,  mindful  of 
his  obligation,  with  becoming  courtesy,  thanks 
Van  Horton  for  his  kindness  to  his  father. 

Van  Horton,  with  the  sang  froid  of  an  old 
campaigner  remarks,  "I  am  not  insensible  for 
the  sufferings  of  my  fellow-man,  particularly  of 
an  old  friend  (sarcastically),  whose  courteous 
treatment  under  his  own  roof  has  so  endeared 
him  to  my  heart." 


Van  Horton  de  Trop.  75 

"This  is  neither  the  place  nor  time  to  renew 
an  acquaintance  not  agreeable,"  says  Major 
Carday,  "and  I  beg  to  bid  you  good-night,  Mr. 
Yan  Horton." 

"G-ood-night,"  answers  the  wretch,  now  fairly 
aroused,  backing  from  them  and  doffing  his  cap 
in  mock  humility.  "I  shall  be  pleased  to  carry 
for  your  friend  any  message  of  love  or  condo- 
lence, for  I  shall  see  your  good  people  soon, 
Captain  Randolph,  whom  I  have  no  doubt  await 
with  anxiety  my  happy  arrival — my  sweet  in- 
tended,  Miss  F ,  so   devotedly  loves   your 

brother  and  his  pretty,  little,  pet  sister." 

Stung  almost  to  madness,  the  Federal  major 
lays  his  hand  upon  his  pistol,  but  remembering 
the  situation,  calls  loudly  for  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard,  the  picket  line  being  in  close  proximity, 
but  before  a  search  is  well  begun,  Van  Horton 
has  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

After  exchanging  many  regrets  concerning 
the  phases  of  the  war,  the  separation  of  friends, 
the  conflict  of  brother  against  brother,  the  deso- 
lation of  homes,  and  the  ruthless  destruction  of 
life  and  property,  and  mutually  expressing  the 
desire  of  an  early  meeting  under  the  shadow  of 
the  white  wings  of  peace,  each  returns  to  his  re- 
spective camp,  and  is  soon  lost  in  sleep. 


76  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 


Chapter  VI. 

'Twas  midnight  of  the  4th  day  of  July,  1864, 
when  Randolph  (who  had  lost  his  horse),  seated 
in  a  captured  Concord  coach,  which  was  loaded 
with  delectable  supplies,  the  fruits  of  the  visit 
to  Pennsylvania,  was  driven  southward  along 
the  Seminary  ridge  in  the  direction  of  Fairfield, 
bound  for  Williamsport,  Md.  Here  the  pio- 
neer troops  were  engaged,  with  the  most  primi- 
tive tools,  in  constructing  the  pontoons  to  cross 
the  bulk  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia. 
These  boats  were  launched  and  floated  down  the 
Potomac  to  Falling  Waters,  a  crossing  but  a 
few  miles  below  Williamsport,  where  Lee  crossed 
his  trains,  artillery  and  his  troops  in  safety  to 
the  south  bank. 

Remaining  late  with  Carter's  Artillery,  which 
held  the  bluff  to  defend  the  crossing,  Randolph 
lost  his  tent,  his  supper  and  his  reckoning  in  the 
dense  cedars,  and  slept  under  the  eves  of  a  tent 
near  by,  suffering  the  miseries  of  a  drenching 
rain,  and  the  eternal  drip,  drip,  drip  of  the  tent 
till  the  dawn  of  day,  when,  to  his  disgust,  the 
familiar  voice  of  his  own  messmate  told  him 


Off  for  Thornton's  Gap.  77 

that  he  had  slept  on  the  wrong  side  of  his  own 
tent. 

The  troops  again  took  up  their  line  of  march, 
and  their  steady  tramp  soon  brought  them  in 
sight  of  the  gallant  and  long-suffering  Town  of 
Winchester;  thence  to  Manassas  Gap  to  "bag  a 
Yankee  brigade,"  which  proved  too  big  for  the 
bag,  as  it  turned  out.  The  brigade  consisted  of 
two  army  corps,  requiring  a  night  tramp  down 
by  Front  Royal,  and  a  safe  space  of  eight  miles 
away  by  the  brawling  river  to  rest  the  weary  and 
footsore  men. 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  on  the  following 
day,  when  the  division  wheeled  to  the  left  of  the 
road  to  go  into  camp,  and  Randolph  was  not  yet 
dismounted,  when  an  order  was  received  for  him 
to  take  the  Pioneer  corps  to  Thornton's  Gap,  a 
distance  of  some  five  miles,  to  bridge  a  stream 
at  that  place.  That  five  miles  added  so  unex- 
pectedly to  the  march  just  finished,  seemed  to 
grow  in  length  as  the  worn-out  men  straggled 
along. 

But  the  point  was  duly  reached,  and  orders 
were  obeyed,  but  not  before  Randolph  measured 
the  depth  of  the  quicksand  with  his  horse,  and 
gained  an  experience  of  navigating  an  animal  on 
fence-rails  from  quicksand  to  terra  fir m a. 

The  labor  done,  Randolph  lost  no  time  to  gain 
access  to  the  hospitable  mansion  of  Mrs.  Thorn- 


78  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

ton,  near  by,  and  was  welcomed  by  old  friends 
and  new,  of  both  sexes. 

The  heart  swells  with  the  grateful  remem- 
brance of  the  good  cheer,  the  cordial  welcome  of 
the  sweet-faced  matron,  the  good  Old  Virginia 
mother  and  grandmother,  with  a  voice  that 
cheered,  and  a  smile  that  meant  welcome,  and  a 
dignity  and  firmness  with  sweetness  that  was  the 
stay  of  Jackson's  grip  upon  the  Valley  and  the 
bolster  of  the  wearied  soldiers'  courage. 

Oftimes  memory  has  lingered  over  the  recol- 
lections of  that  visit,  bringing  thoughts,  laden 
with  prayers  and  blessings,  for  the  good  Old  Vir- 
ginia matron  who  brought  "home"  to  a  soldier's 
heart,  short  though  it  was.  Here  Randolph  en- 
countered Colonel  Morton  Marye,  who  had  left 
a  leg  upon  the  field  of  battle,  and  who  was  anx- 
iously awaiting  the  arrival  of  General  Ewell, 
who  likewise  had  lost  a  leg. 

The  meeting  of  the  two  was  of  some  import- 
ance, as  Ewell' s  peg  was  too  long  and  Marye's 
too  short,  and  an  exchange  of  pegs  was  in  con- 
templation; and  we  are  happy  to  add  was  con- 
summated with  mutual  satisfaction. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that,  though  Randolph 
had  an  eminent  regard  for  General  Ewell,  it  was 
not  supposed  that  inferior  officers  on  duty  were 
recreating  in  brick  mansions,  eating  chicken, 
listening  to  the  sweet  tones  of  a  piano,  drawn 


Bed  Tape  Endorsed.  79 

out  by  the  nimble  fingers  of  a  charming  lady, 
and  at  the  hour  of  retiring,  to  eschew  tattoo  and 
taps  and  luxuriate  in  a  feather-bed.  A  sorrow- 
ful finale  is  to  be  recorded,  and  one  indeed 
divested  entirely  of  digDity,  for  the  General,  long 
expected,  only  put  in  an  appearance  m  the  we 
small  hours  of  the  night,  and  as  he  entered  the 
front  door  our  friend,  Randolph,  went  out  hastily 
at  the  back  door.  At  that  time  the  General  could 
"cuss,"  and  it  was  from  a  fear  of  extorting  that 
sort  of  an  effort  which  caused  the  irregular  exit, 
although  in  later  years  that  habit  was  but  a  rec- 
ollection of  the  past. 

After  a  tedious  march,  the  division  arrived  at 
Orange  Court  House,  and  here  Randolph  received 
orders  for  detailed  duty,  and  for  fuller  directions 
to  report  at  Richmond. 

A  government  is  no  government  without  red 
tape,  and  Randolph  cared  not  how  long  they 
wound  and  unwound  their  tape,  so  long  as  his 
money  held  out ;  for  quartered  at  the  old  Spots- 
wood,  he  was  happy  in  the  company  of  old 
friends.  There  were  present  also  many  old  ex- 
cadets  of  every  official  grade,  all  hob-nobbing 
and  messing  at  the  same  table,  and  forgetful  of 
all  trials  and  dangers — past,  present  and  future. 

Donning  his  best  suit,  Randolph  seeks  No.  — 
Franklin  street,  where  a  cousin  of  Marguerite 
lived  when  last  he  visited  Richmond  before  the 


80  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

war.  Remembering  vividly,  too,  how  he  took 
the  wrong  direction  homeward,  and  in  the  wee 
sma'  hours  anent  the  twal,  was  turned  in  the 
way  of  home  and  happiness  from  the  precincts 
of  Butchertown,  by  a  kind  and  gentlemanly 
policeman. 

Answering  the  door-bell,  he  was  told  that  Miss 
Signor  was  at  home,  and  was  shown  into  the 
parlor,  now  carpetless ;  the  carpeting  doing  duty 
now  and  for  many  days  past  as  soldiers'  blankets. 
Soon  she  entered,  with  the  ease  and  grace  which 
was  a  part  of  the  woman.  Gentle,  pretty  and 
intellectual,  she  was  a  model  of  grace,  and  of  all 
the  virtues  that  charm  the  heart,  and  exalt  while 
they  charm. 

Advancing  with  extended  hand,  "You  are 
welcome,  sir,"  she  said,  "as  all  soldiers  are  who 
wear  the  gray.  But  tell  me,  whom  have  I  the 
honor  of  addressing?" 

Laughing,  Randolph  is  in  the  act  of  answer- 
ing, when  she  fairly  screams:  "Oh!  Oh!  you 
good-for-nothing  scamp ;  you  deserter,  you  fraud, 
you  everything  that  is  naughty,  where  have  you 
been?  What  a  great,  long  moustache  you  do 
sport,  and  it  was  but  yesterday  the  beardless 
cadet,  lost  in  revery  of  his  true  love,  and  gazing 
at  the  wrong  star,  lost  his  reckoning  in  the 
lighted  streets  of  Richmond,"  and  ceases  only 
in  a  paroxysm  of  uncontrolled  laughter. 


Fie  for  Shame.  81 

Randolph  meekly  catches  the  contagion  and 
joins  heartily  in  enjoying  the  ludicrous  picture. 

"Now,  Berta,"  pleads  Randolph,  "will  you 
never  learn  to  respect  the  tenderness  of  my  poor 
heart?  Think  how  I  have  suffered!  Been  up 
in  Yankeedom,  keeping  the  whole  nation  from 
visiting  you  and  the  seat  of  the  Confederate  gov- 
ernment, and  now  you  chaff  me.  Fie,  for 
shame ! ' ' 

"A  truce  it  is,"  she  answered;  "but  tell  me, 
what  did  you  bring  from  the  raid?" 

"First  of  all,  my  dear  lady,  these  beautiful 
high-topped  boots;  a  handsome  and  gallant  cav- 
alry officer  had  no  further  use  for  them  in  the 
place  he  was  journeying  to;  a  man  of  our  Pio- 
neer corps  borrowed  them,  and  being  unable  to 
get  a  No.  9  foot  into  a  No.  7  boot,  Secretary 
Trenholm's  scrip  made  them  mine." 

"And  is  that  all?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  Randolph;  "scores  of 
wagons  went  into  Pennsylvania  loaded  with 
hungry,  footsore  and  barefooted  men.  Our 
wagons  returned  loaded  with  food  for  man  and 
beast,  and  clothing,  and  our  men  shod  to  a  man. 
As  for  our  staff,  we  have  flour,  cut-loaf  sugar, 
tea,  coffee,  apple  butter,  and,  please  don't  faint ! 
a  whole  barrel  of  whisky.  Ah!  your  lips  grow 
moist! " 

"At  least,  not  for  the  whisky,"  she  answers, 


82  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

"but  men  exposed,  I  suppose,  must  needs  have 
it,  and  it  must  be  so  refreshing  to  the  poor 
wounded;  but  I  must  say  that  our  okra  and 
sweet-potato  coffee,  when  compared  to  the 
simon-pure,  would  be  more  apt  to  bring  water 
to  the  eyes  than  to  the  lips." 

Mindful  of  the  object  of  his  visit,  Randolph 
says: 

"Tell  me  of  your  sweet  little  coz,  Marguerite. 
I  will  share  my  choicest  rations  with  you  if  yeu 
will  tell  me  'heaps'  of  my  little  sweetheart." 

' '  What  a  valiant  lobbyman  in  the  councils  of 
Cupid!"   says  Berta.     "You  would  bribe  me; 

you  judge  me  as  Fannie  P judged  yourself 

when  a  cadet — '  that  the  only  way  to  reach  your 
heart  was  by  your  mouth.'  However,  I  have 
news,  and  good  news.  Would  a  surprise  hurt 
you,  or  are  you  too  well  guarded!  " 

"Oh!  no,"  answers  Randolph ;  "Cupid  flies, 
and  the  little  fellow  has  a  reckless  way  of  flying 
his  darts ;  videttes  would  be  useless,  and  I  am 
too  old  a  soldier  to  be  frightened.  On  with  the 
surprise,  and  earn  your  bribe." 

"Then,  let  me  tell  you,"  says  Berta;  "Mar- 
guerite is  here  in  Richmond,  and  Sadie  with 
her.  Marguerite's  brother  Charlie  is  in  the 
hospital,  wounded  in  one  of  the  many  fights  of 
the  Stonewall  brigade,  and  the  girls  are  down 
with  him  now,  with  what  delicacies  we  could 


The  Introduction.  83 

rake  and  scrape  together — some  bought,  some 
begged  and  some  contributed,  and  the  sum  of 
all  not  much  to  brag  of. ' ' 

More  than  satisfied  with  the  success  of  his 
visit,  Randolph,  in  company  with  Berta,  ap- 
proached the  hall  door,  when,  as  if  by  magic, 
the  door  flies  open,  and  the  ladies  enter,  Mar- 
guerite in  advance.  Berta  quickly,  in  jest,  in- 
troduces ''Miss  Darliugton — Captain  Price,"  and 
quick  as  thought  Randolph  puts  his  arms  around 
the  little  lady,  and  says:  "  Yes,  yours  without 
price,  my  little  one!" 

''Oh,  how  you  frightened  me!"  answers  the 
willing  captive,  and  the  upturned  lamp  shows  a 
lovely  face,  radiantly  beautiful,  with  crimsoned 
cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes,  shaded  by  hair  as 
black  as  midnight,  and  lips  that  to  Randolph 
seemed  to  be  lost  in  the  luscious  fragrance  of 
their  sweetness. 

For  a  time  questions  of  no  importance  to  the 
reader  are  made  and  answered,  with  astonishing 
rapidity,  till  the  hour  of  12  calls  for  the  linger- 
ing ' '  Good-night ! ' ' 

'Tis  late  and  the  city  is  wrapt  in  sleep,  when 
Randolph  reaches  the  Spotswood,  where  he 
meets  his  old  fellow-cadet,  Colonel  Slaughter, 
of  the  — th  Virginia,  and  together  they  find  a 
banker,  a  boyhood  friend,  and  together  enjoy 
a  supper  ' '  fit  for  the  gods, ' '  the  memory  of  which 


84  From    Dust  to  Ashes. 

is  green  and  glorious  of  to-day;  but  whose  mixt- 
ure of  every  variety  of  stimulants,  a  vivid  mem- 
ory long  remembering,  involuntarily  causes  the 
hand  to  feel  the  head  for  an  aching  recollection 
of  that  joyous  event. 

Their  stomachs  were  empty,  their  appetites 
good,  and  delicacies  never  saw  during  the  war; 
the  temptation  was  great,  and  though  the  Colo- 
nel badly  limped  from  the  effects  of  a  bullet 
through  the  thigh,  they  bore  their  burden  like 
men,  and  safely  laid  their  forms,  increased  by 
many  pounds  avoirdupois,  upon  their  hotel 
beds,  and  dreamed  of  feasting,  and  arousing 
early  in  search  of  the  nearest  cut  to  the  water 
tank. 

Breakfast  next  morning  is  hastily  dispatched, 
and  Randolph  looking  "tired,"  but  armed  with 
his  promised  bribe,  is  soon  ushered  into  the  par- 
lor, and  anxiously  awaits  the  ladies. 

As  the  group  file  in,  Marguerite's  quick  glance 
betokens  the  knowledge  of  a  night  of  short 
rest,  but  condones  the  offense,  because  has  not 
the  offender  just  passed  .through  the  valley  of 
starvation  and  the  shadow  of  death!  Surely 
one  wagon  train  could  not  last  always. 

In  this  group  now  seated  around  Randolph, 
happiness  reigns  supreme;  quick  wit  and  bright 
repartee  gladdens  each  heart,  and  shortens  time, 
that   even   the    sombre   dress   and  sad  face  of 


"Died  of  a    VP  85 

Sadie  cannot  subdue,  for  in  1864  death  was  a 
familiar  event,  and  had  knocked  or  was  knock- 
ing at  the  door  of  thousands  of  Virginia  homes. 

Belles,  beaux,  marriages,  the  war,  the  army, 
the  conduct  of  the  officials,  "Examiner"  com- 
ments, all  were  discussed,  till  a  hush  came  from 
the  ringing  of  the  front  door-bell,  and  almost 
immediately,  two  officers  of  the  Artillery  and 
Engineer  Corps,  respectively,  entered,  and  were 
introduced  as  Captain  Barton  and  Lieutenant 
Rumford ;  when  the  ladies,  almost  in  a  chorus 
in  their  eagerness  to  secure  the  aid  of  the  new 
arrivals  in  denouncing  the  remark  which  Ran- 
dolph had  let  fall  just  before  their  arrival,  that 
he  was  in  sympathy  with  the  "Examiner,"  then 
published  in  Richmond.  Miss  Berta  claiming  a 
* '  court-marshal  "  ;  "  charge,  treason  "  ;  "  speci- 
fications, to  be  forthcoming." 

Captain  Barton  claimed  ignorance  of  the 
whole  matter,  to  which  Miss  Berta  answers: 

"Have  you  not  seen  Editor  John  M.  Dan- 
iels' editorial  saying,  'That  if  the  Confederacy 
fell,  there  should  be  inscribed  upon  its  tomb- 
stone, 'Died  of  a  V,'  '  referring  to  the  angle 
formed  by  Jeff  Davis'  Mississippi  troops  at 
Buena  Vista!" 

"Captain  Randolph  hears  the  General  Order," 
says  Lieutenant  Rumford,  "let  the  court  be 
opened." 


86  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

"Certainly,"  answers  Randolph,  "the  court 
does  not  propose  to  deny  me  the  right  of 
thought,  and  of  expression,  and  most  assuredly 
I  have  committed  no  crime." 

Quickly  Marguerite  speaks  in  defence  of  her 
lover,  and  says :  ' l  Perhaps  fawning  now  may 
lead  to  preferment,  and  though  silence  is  golden, 
it  may  lead  to  oppression  or  defeat,  mayhap  to 
both." 

"Well  and  bravely  spoken,  my  guardian  an- 
gel," says  Randolph,  "and  now  let  me  divest 
your  minds  of  one  error,  and  recall  to  your 
minds  a  few  facts  of  history." 

"The  assumption  of  the  form  of  the  letter  V 
was  not  the  outcome  of  the  ingenuity  of  Col- 
onel Davis,  but  simply  the  occupying  with  his 
lines  the  natural  crest  and  conformation  of  the 
hill  commanding  the  intervening  valley.  Fur- 
thermore, in  looking  over  the  field  of  our  disas- 
ters, do  you  not  perceive  the  direct  origin  of 
Daniels'  ominous  words!  Look  at  Price,  the 
idol  of  his  army,  beheaded  at  Richmond,  and 
succeeded  by  Pemberton  whom  none  knew,  nor 
wanted.  Behold  the  result!  a  retreat  from 
Holly  Springs  to  Vicksburg — locked  up,  and 
caught  like  a  rat  in  a  trap,  not  counting  the 
bloody  blunder  of  Big  Black  River.  See  again 
Joe  Johnston  wearing  out  the  attacking  army  in 
detail  by  leading  him   away  from  his  base  of 


Retrospection.  87 

supplies,  choosing  his  own  ground,  pounding 
him  well,  and  cutting  his  communication  off 
from  his  base  of  supplies;  leaves  him  to  repair 
damages,  fix  up  and  inarch  again  to  receive  the 
same  dose.  Yet,  at  Richmond,  his  head  falls 
in  the  imperial  basket,  and  a  gallant  officer  not 
equal  to  the  emergency,  with  the  executive  pre- 
diction, that  he  was  one  to  'strike  a  manly 
blow,'  steps  in,  with  a  new  programme,  and 
with  a  campaign  marked  only  by  the  carless- 
ness  or  stupidity  of  allowing  a  whole  army  to 
pass  near  his  sleeping  troops,  and  with  the 
bloody  defeat  of  Franklin,  nothing  else  is  to  be 
noted." 

With  flashing  eyes  he  asks:  "Do  you  see  the 
terrible  contrast  with  the  '  manly  blows  '  struck 
at  Resaea,  Kennesaw,  Altoona,  and  upon  every 
hill-top  on  the  line  of  Johnston's  retreat?" 

A  pause,  and  Randolph  turns  to  Berta,  and 
says:  "I  really  think  that  I  will  have  you  put 
in  the  stocks,  and  to  further  punish  you,  when 
I  get  married,  I  shan't  call  you  cousin." 

"Wait,  Captain,"  she  answers,  "till  that  time 
arrives;  'there  is  many  a  slip,  etc.,  etc'  But 
let  us  drop  such  questions  and  talk  of  our  own 
dear  selves." 

And  now  the  usual  chaff  of  young  people, 
bent  upon  enjoying  the  brief  moments  of  relief 
from  camp,  soon  dissipates  the  hours,  and  the 


88  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

young  men  rise  to  leave,  and  Randolph  last,  for 
the  words  spoken  to  Marguerite  are  not  many, 
but  all  of  love  and  devotion — for  the  partings  of 
those  days  were  sometimes  good-byes  forever. 
The  three  young  men  slowly  sauntered  to- 
wards the  Capitol  grounds,  separating  there  for 
their  respective  hotels  or  quarters,  and  upon  the 
arrival  of  Randolph  at  his  room,  he  found  a 
curt  note  scrawled  upon  a  strip  of  paper: 

"Waited  here  two  hours  to  deliver  orders;  back  at  ft 
a.  m.  to-morrow."  "Adams,  Orderly.'''' 

This  ended  his  revery,  and  he  retired;  the 
old  negro  refrains  which  he  had  heard  so  often 
on  the  Mississippi  steamers  ringing  in  his  ears, 
"Good-bye,  my  lover,  good-bye." 


An  Old  Friend.  89 


Chapter  VII. 

Promptly  Orderly  Adams  appears  with  his  offi- 
cial missive,  and  saluting,  retires  to  the  sacred 
precincts  of  his  bomb-proof  post  in depart- 
ment, and  Randolph  is  left  to  read  his  orders. 
Being  of  a  private  nature  and  for  the  good  of 
the  service,  and  totally  irrelevant  to  the  issues 
herein,  we  simply  state  that  the  duty  assigned 
was  arduous,  dangerous,  and  requiring  nerve 
and  good  judgment  to  perform  with  safety  and 
satisfaction . 

Armed  with  an  order  to  draw  for  a  coadjutor, 
Randolph  thought  of  none  more  worthy  or 
acceptable  than  his  former  fellow  -  traveler, 
now  Sergeant  O'Rourke — and  as  future  events 
showed,  none  better  pleased  to  serve,  or  better 
able  to  fulfill  the  duties  required. 

Bidding  an  affectionate  adieu  to  the  angels  on 
Franklin  street,  and  draining  a  parting  cup  with 
his   friend   and   companion    of   the  memorable 

feast,  Colonel  S ,  about  8  o'clock  a.  m.,  upon 

a  lovely  day,  the  two  soldiers  were  seated  on 
board  the  cars  en  route  to  their  destination,  via 
Lynchburg,  and  to  a  point  some  forty  miles 
beyond. 


90  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

Arriving:  late  at  night,  our  travelers  disembark 
on  the  south  side  of  the  road,  and,  attracted  by 
a  glimmering  light  some  distance  away,  proceed 
thither,  guided,  as  it  were,  by  this  star  of  hope. 
In  the  days  of  his  boyhood  Randolph  had  been 
a  guest  at  the  hospitable  mansion  now  sought, 
and  whose  venerable,  though  eccentric,  host  was 
his  father's  steadfast  friend;  but  time  had  erased 
the  map  which  memory  should  have  retained, 
and  they  stumbled  along  as  though  perfect 
strangers  in  a  strange  land.  Anchoring  at  the 
gate,  and  clinging  thereto  with  the  energy  of 
wrecked  mariners,  superinduced  rather  by  the 
expected  appearance  of  some  wicked  and  vicious 
quadruped  of  the  genus  canine,  they  venture  a 
timorous  ' '  Hello ! ' '  which  brings  a  watchful 
man-servant  to  the  door,  who  bids  them  enter. 

Here  was  the  enjoyment  of  a  blissful  rest,  and 
rising  early,  Randolph,  standing  upon  the  front 
porch,  drinks  in  once  again,  and  perhaps  for  the 
last  time,  the  lovely  scenery  from  as  lovely  a  home 
as  is  found  in  any  valley  of  Virginia.  The  house 
is  situated  upon  the  very  crown  of  a  gentle  eleva- 
tion, and  is  built  of  brick  masonry,  being  one- 
story,  with  attic  lighted  with  dormer  windows ; 
of  a  rambling  style,  but  with  large,  airy  rooms 
and  a  spacious  hall,  both  front  and  rear,  sup- 
plied with  broad  verandahs,  whose  columns  were 
entwined  with  running  vines  and  climbing  roses. 


The  Peaks  of  Otter.  91 

In  the  yard,  and  to  the  right  of  the  mansion, 
was  the  office,  a  two-room  building,  used  when 
pressed.  Between  the  two  houses  was  a  large 
granite  block,  about  two  feet  deep,  two  feet  wide 
and  six  feet  long,  having  two  basins  chiselled 
therein,  for  the  accommodation  of  those  who  de- 
sired to  bathe  their  face  and  hands  in  the  waters 
of  a  lovely  spring  hard  by. 

The  host,  a  model  farmer,  as  he  was  a  model 
man,  of  massive  build  and  sunny  face,  with  long, 
flowing  locks,  now  tinged  with  the  frosts  of  more 
than  seventy  years,  was  nevertheless  very  demo- 
cratic in  his  manner  of  dress. 

Eandolph  gazed  in  silent  admiradon,  and  with 
thoughts  of  inexpressible  happiness,  at  the  beau- 
tiful landscape  spread  out  before  him.  Once 
again  he  sees  the  familiar  friend  of  his  child- 
hood, the  Peaks  of  Otter,  rising  like  a  giant  in 
strength  and  grandeur  upon  the  right ;  the  val- 
ley in  front,  with  its  varied  verdure  of  corn,  oats, 
tobacco,  and  its  pasture  of  lowing  kine  and 
bleating  sheep;  and  far  beyond,  in  the  distance, 
the  long  sweep  of  deep  blue  of  the  ridge  of  that 
name,  bluer  by  contrast  with  the  azure  of  the 
skies. 

All  this  was  much  enjoyed,  until  his  revery 
was  abruptly  broken  by  a  friendly  (if  it  was 
heavy)  hand  that  fell  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
looking  up,  the   kindly  gaze  of  his  old  friend 


92  From   Bust  to  Ashes. 

was  met  with  the  demand,  "And  where  did  you 
come  from!" 

The  answer  was  easy,  and  with  that  easy  grace 
which  the  old  man,  with  even  his  osnaburg 
shirt  and  red  bandana  handkerchief  swung 
around  his  neck,  could  not  diminish.  With  such 
grace  and  welcome,  he  takes  Randolph  by  the 
arm  and  leads  him  into  the  sitting-room,  where 
a  massive  sideboard  of  mahogany  is  graced  by 
elegant  cut-glass  decanters,  all,  need  we  say, 
well  filled.  Sugar,  in  meager  quantity,  was 
there,  and  on  account  of  its  rarity  sparingly 
used.  A  glass  of  freshly  gathered  mint  stood 
convenient  for  use. 

Bidding  his  guest  to  partake,  the  good  old 
man  in  an  incessant  strain  talks  of  the  war,  his 
troubles,  and  of  old  times,  until  stopped  by  the 
draining  cup;  when  by  many  coughs  and  much 
clearing  of  the  throat,  Randolph  is  made  very 
positively  and  painfully  aware  of  the  fact  that 
Sergeant  O'Rourke  is  present  and  "not  in  it," 
but  evidently  desirous  of  joining  in  the  libation. 

The  old  Captain,  for  such  he  has  been  called 
for  these  many  years,  sees  the  object  of  commis- 
eration, and,  without  further  to  do,  cries,  "Come, 
come,  sir!  and  join  us;^we  are  only  ahead;  you 
are  on  time,  and  can  catch  up  by  adding  to  the 
quantity." 

"I  will,  and  thank   ye,"  says   the    Sergeant, 


Mr.   O'Bourke  Imhibes.  93 

and,  evidently  mindful  of  the  words  of  his  host, 
he  fills  his  glass  to  the  brim,  and,  bowing  with 
becoming  gravity,  he  swallowed  the  contents 
without  drawing  a  breath,  and  wiping  his  mouth 
with  the  back  of  his  hand,  cleared  his  throat  and 
said:  "Bether  than  the  stuff  you  were  afther 
bringin'  back  from  Carlisle  barracks,  Captain." 

"You  have  drank  some  of  the  Captain's  ten- 
year-old  apple  brandy,  O'Rourke,"  answered 
Randolph. 

"The  saints  be  praised!  The  blessid  apple 
brought  trouble  and  misery  enough  to  auld 
Adam,  and  busted  up  the  family  circle  entirely, 
but  sure  Captain  the  juice  of  apples  loike  that 
would  make  a  paradise  anywhere  without  Adam 
in  it.  Sure  I  fale  it  in  the  botham  of  me 
brogans." 

It  is  not  long  before  the  household  are  seated 
at  breakfast,  and  to  the  almost  utter  demorali- 
zation of  Randolph,  a  young  Lieutenant  S , 

and  an  old  ex-cadet,  drops  in,  who  is  spending 
a  sick  leave,  having  enlisted  in  Mobile,  Ala., 
while  engaged  in  the  noble  and  exalted  position 
of  sampling  cotton  in  that  port. 

For  the  poor  old  devastated  Virginia  of  that 
period,  the  table  partook  of  a  fascinating  repast ; 
and  the  event  seemed  to  culminate  in  a  meeting 
of  friends,  whose  mutual  records  and  reminis- 
cences,   when   brightened    and    enlivened    and 


94  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

brought  back  to  memory,  would  make  the  old 
walls  resound  to  the  peals  of  joyous  laughter. 
All  of  a  sudden  this  was  estopped  by  the  dispo- 
sition of  our  high-stepping  and  fancy  lieutenant, 
actuated  by  the  push  and  energy  of  those  we  fear 
as  friends,  and  dread  not  as  enemies.  His  de- 
sire was  to  speak,  and  none  knew  it  better  than 
poor  Randolph,  and  none  dreaded  it  more. 
Turning  his  adolescent  figure  to  face  our  honest 
old  host,  he  pertly  says: 

"Captain,  how  many  bushels  of  wheat  do  you 
raise?77 

Answer — ' l  Five  thousand . 7 ' 

Question — "How  many  of  corn!77 

"Eight  thousand.77 

He  asks  of  horses,  cattle  and  sheep,  and  pa- 
tiently the  old  man  answers  this  catechism ; 
whereupon  this  puerile  ghost  of  a  soldier,  not 
knowing  the  ground  whereon  he  treads,  says  in 
a  spirit  of  advisement: 

"'Cotton  is  King,7  Captain;  you  should  sell 
out  and  go  south,  and  raise  cotton,  sir.77 

Never  will  I  forget  the  look  of  mingled  disgust 
and  contempt  which  absolutely  paled  the  old 
Captain7s  face  (ordinarily  red),  as  he  turned 
upon  the  young  man  with  the  expression : 

"D — n  you  and  cotton,  too!  I  wouldn't -live 
out  of  sight  of  the  Peaks  of  Otter  for  all  the 
cotton   states    of    the    Southern    Confederacy. 


O'Bourke  is  "Dry."  95 

'Cotton!'  'Cotton!777  And  with  a  sniff  and  a 
snort,  lie  attacked  his  plate  with  renewed  energy. 

Needless  to  say,  noue  enjoyed  the  rebuff  more 
than  Randolph,  whose  experience  in  the  cotton 
region  taught  him  the  truth  of  the  old  man's 
words,  and  he  felt  that  it  was  merited  rebuke  to 
the  recreant  fealty  of  a  stupid  Virginian. 

It  becomes  necessary  here  to  purchase  horses 
if  possible,  and  as  the  old  Captain  in  his  patri- 
otic enthusiasm  has  disposed  to  the  Confederate 
government  all  of  his  available  stock,  it  was  de- 
cided that  Randolph  aud  the  old  Captain  should 
ride  some  six  miles  across  the  country  westwardly, 
to  secure  the  necessary  mount,  while  O'Rourke 
should  hold  the  office  down  during  their  absence ; 
a  servant  also  being  sent  to  beat  about  among 
the  immediate  neighbors  for  horses,  which,  if 
sent,  were  to  be  examined  and  valued  by  Ser- 
geant 07Rourke,  now  the  supreme  officer  in  com- 
mand. 

For  at  least  an  hour  after  Randolph's  depart- 
ure, our  good  Irish  sergeant  walked  that  yard, 
never  passing  the  sitting-room  door  without 
thinking  of  the  gladdening  contents  of  the  big 
glass  decanters  upon  that  mahogany  sideboard. 
At  last  he  rests  before  the  door,  holding  his  right 
elbow  in  the  palm  of  his  left  hand,  with  his 
right  gently  carressing  his  much  admired  goatee, 
and   concludes   his   reverie  thus:      "I'll    do    it, 


96  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

begorra!"  and  walking  in,  he  fills  a  tumbler  to 
the  brim  and  quaffs  his  spirits  with  the  gnsto  of 
one  who  has  the  right,  and  of  right  enjoys  it. 
Resuming  his  walk,  his  heart  warms  to  himself 
and  his  fellow-man,  and  his  legs  beginning  to 
tire,  he  hies  him  to  to  the  office,  which  hardly 
affords  him  a  chair  before  he  is  accosted  by  a 
plain,  young,  farmer  lad,  whom  he  invites  to 
"take  a  seat  and  sit  down." 

In  the  absence  of  any  chair,  the  lad  promptly 
says,  "  I  ain't  got  any  seat." 

"The  Divil  ye  havn't!"  answers  O'Rourke. 
Ye  have  a  sate,  and  just  put  it  on  the  steps." 
Now  feeling,  with  the  help  of  his  libation,  his 
importance  as  an  inspector  and  purchaser  of 
government  horseflesh,  he  proceeds  to  catechise 
his  visitor : 

First,  spitting  high  and  far,  and  with  an  as- 
sumption of  much  grandeur,  he  asks:  "Phwat's 
yer  name?" 

"Isaac  White,  sir,"  the  lad  meekly  answers. 
"Was  wounded,  one  of  Jenkins'  cavalry;  father 
refugeed  near  here,  from  below  Petersburg,  and 
my  pa  sent  me  here  to  bring  her  up." 

"And  sure,  is  she  well  put  up,  and  will  she 
stand  the  cavortin'  of  the  boss!"  says  O'Rourke. 

"Of  course  she  is,  and  of  course  she  will;  and 
moreover,  she  is  as  bright  as  a  daisy,"  he  an- 
swered. 


Mr.   O'Rourke  is  Hospitable.  97 

"An'  now  ave  yer  plase,"  said  Mr.  O'Rourke, 
''an'  how  does  she  move?" 

"Like  a  queen,  and  there  is  not  her  match  in 
the  country,"  answered  the  lad. 

"She  must  be  a  honey,  be  jabers,"  said 
O'Rourke;  "and  sure  it  will  take  an  ambulance 
to  bring  the  Confident  money  to  buy  the  queen. 
Now,  tell  me,  is  she  quiet,  gentle  and  well 
handled."" 

"Oh,  Lord  bless  you!  yes;  you  jest  see  my 
ma  and  pa  oust  an'  you'll  be  satisfied  of  that." 

"An'  how  auld  is  she?"  asked  O'Rourke. 

Isaac  answered,  "Just  fifteen." 

O'Rourke  collapsed.  "Howly  Moses!  trot  her 
around,  and  let  me  auld  eyes  behold  the  queen 
of  fifteen  years  that  can  bate  the  Captain's  seven- 
year-auld,  that  he  rode  away  from  here  this 
blessid  morn.  'Arrah!  go  away  wid  ye!  Phwat 
do  yer  take  me  fer,  yer  spalpeen?" 

Upon  which  Mr.  Isaac  White  rises  in  sheer 
stupefaction,  not  knowing  whether  the  man  was 
crazy  or  upon  the  road  thereto. 

But  the  climax  was  reached  when  he  was  in- 
vited, with  proper  flourish  of  arms  and  much 
dignity  of  demeanor,  to  walk  in  and  take  a 
"drop,"  and  then  hitch  the  queen  to  the  rack  till 
the  Captain  should  arrive. 

Whereupon  the  scales  dropped  from  the  eyes 
of  Mr.  White,  and   he  proceeded  to  enlighten 


98  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

Mr.  O'Rourke  that,  at  the  request  of  his  parent, 
he  had  accompanied  his  sister,  of  fifteen  sum- 
mers, to  enter  the  employ  of  his  host,  and  that 
she  is  now  with  the  old  man's  good  lady,  and 
would  not  enjoy  being  hitched  to  the  horse-rack. 

"Ouch!   Murther!"  said  the  Sergeant. 

"Kape,  what  I've  said  to  ye  to  youre  darling 
self,  me  lad ;  there  comes  no  good  to  be  afther 
prating  around  yer  own  saycrets;  and  moind 
ye,  its  bether  by  lots  and  gobs  to  be  hitched  to 
a  rack,  rather  than  a  wrack,  which  often  hap- 
pens. Now  will  ye  take  a  drop!  That's  a  man 
as  ye  is.  Now  run,  me  honey,  and  give  the  dear 
girrul  me  love  and  dootiful  regards  intirely." 

Which  Mr.  Isaac  White,  judging  from  his 
haste,  is  anxious  to  do. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  two  Captains,  some 
hours  later,  with  two  led  horses,  they  find  the 
gallant  Sergeant  slumbering  hard  and  heavy, 
and  seeking  refreshment,  soon  discover  the 
cause,  when  sounding  the  decanters. 

A  night  of  rest,  a  hearty  "Grod  bless  you," 
from  the  host,  and  once  more  our  travelers  are 
upon  the  road,  and  for  many  days  are  engaged 
in  carrying  out  the  orders  of  depart- 
ment, until  caught  in  the  advance  of  the  troops 
of  General  John  Morgan,  composed  entirely  of 
cavalry,  and  which  were  moving  in  the  direction 
of  Greenville,  East  Tennessee. 


"Jine  the  Cavalry."  99 

With  the  sapient  advice  of  Sergeant  O'Rourke 
to  "jine  the  cavalry"  for  a  brief  season,  and 
favoring  the  idea  with  a  hope  of  seeing  the 
faces  of  the  old  folks  at  home,  Randolph  readily 
assents;  and  riding  ahead  of  the  command, 
they  are  astonished  beyond  expression,  to  find 
Morgan  and  staff  ahead  of  them  without  escort, 
in  a  country  if  not  hostile  at  least  more  than 
doubtful,  and  filled  with  Union  sympathizers. 

Randolph  and  his  faithful  attendant  soon  ar- 
rive, and  is  welcomed  to  the  bosom  of  his 
parents,  but  it  was  accompanied  with  such  a 
burden  of  fear  and  anxious  expectation,  that 
acting  upon  the  information  of  his  parents  that, 
the  Yankees  were  near  the  place  in  force,  and 
that  his  capture  or  death  was  liable  from  reck- 
less exposure,  they  waited  until  darkness  had 
fallen,  when  mounting  their  horses,  they  quietly 
rode  away  to  a  safe  hiding-place,  near  the  vil- 
lage, and  in  easy  view. 

Early  next  morning  our  adventurers  were 
aroused  by  the  noise  of  beating  hoofs  upon  the 
highway,  and  the  rapid  firing  of  carbines ;  the 
flying  horseman  which  flashed  by,  and  to  the 
rear,  being  recognized  as  one  attached  to  the 
body  of  General  Morgan,  quickly  aroused  the 
suspicion  in  the  minds  of  the  two  experienced 
soldiers  that  this  was  the  sequel  of  yesterday's 
recklessness. 


100  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

Remaining  en  perdu,  Randolph  argued  that 
having  accomplished  their  object,  the  Yankees 
would  retire  upon  their  main  body.  At  night 
they  returned  to  the  village  and'  learned  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  death  of  Morgan. 

Mrs.  C.  D.  Williams,  a  most  elegant,  courteous 
and  hospitable  lady,  and  for  many  years  a  widow, 
was  the  magnate  of  the  village;  the  possessor  of 
a  large,  two-story  brick  mansion  with  basement, 
surrounded  with  ample  grounds,  having  a  well- 
kept  garden  of  flowers  and  fruits,  running  down 
and  extending  to  the  main  street  of  the  village 
At  one  corner  of  the  garden,  and  fronting  on 
this  street,  she  had  constructed  a  small  church, 
dedicated  to  the  use  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
denomination ;  in  the  diagonally  opposite  corner, 
and  near  the  house,  was  the  grape  arbor,  in 
which  Morgan  was  killed. 

The  maudlin  story  of  Morgan's  betrayal  by  a 
woman  of  the  name  and  family  of  his  hostes>. 
has  been  a  story  of  no  foundation  in  fact.  It  was, 
however,  ravenously  seized  upon  by  "thai 
woman,"  Miss  F ,  who  saw  another  Ran- 
dolph to  punish,  and  another  victim  for  her 
venom.  And  even  in  after  years,  periodically 
did  this  poor  she-devil  visit  her  imbecile  rage, 
until  at  Atlanta,  the  poor  brute  who  was  paid  to 
many  her  and    move  away  from  home,  put    her 


General  Morgan's  Mistake.  101 

where  bad  women  trouble  not,   nor  bear  false 
witness  against  their  neighbors. 

It  is  an  historical  as  well  as  an  indisputable 
fact,  that  Randolph's  father,  and  all  the  Williams 
family,  besought  General  Morgan  not  to  take  the 
risk  of  stopping  alone  in  this  hospitable  man- 
sion, to  which  he  paid  no  attention,  believing  it 
to  be  idle  and  inane  fear  prompting  the  advice. 
Strange  to  say,  the  one  most  innocent  of  all 
knowledge  of  the  presence  of  the  object  of  all 
this  parade,  and  of  the  representatives  of  the 
parties  herein  mentioned,  that  this  absent  and 
unsuspecting  member  of  a  family  above  all  re- 
proach, should  suffer  from  the  poisoned  breath 
of  suspicion.  Perhaps,  the  outcome  of  the  vivid 
imagination  of  a  frightened  soldier,  who  left  his 
General  to  be  shot  down  like  a  dog,  while  he 
took  safety  in  flight ;  or  worse  still,  the  relentless 
persecution  of  a  vicious  woman,  debarred  from 
her  old  associates,  a  social  pariah,  whose  insane 
desire  for  revenge  had  deadened  every  sensibility 
of  gentleness  and  virtue,  which  are  the  crowning 
glories  of  her  sex. 

The  absolute  truth  of  history  is  as  follows, 
vouched  for  by  Confederate  officers  who  did  not 
run  away — men  of  truth  and  courage — backed 
by  the  knowledge  of  a  member  of  the  Confeder- 
ate Congress,  and  attested  by  the  Federal  Com- 
mander, General   Alvan   C.    Gillem.  who  com- 


102  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

manded  the  Yankee  forces  that  made  the  raid, 
and  in  every  way  a  truthful  gentleman,  as  he  was 
a  gallant  soldier: 

Vioksburg,  Miss.,  Feb.  13,  186-. 
Esq. — Dear  Sir:  In  answer  to  your  letter  inquir- 
ing as  to  the  time  when  and  from  what  person  I  had  in- 
formation of  the  whereabouts  and  movements  of  General 
Morgan,  on  which  my  advance  and  the  action  of  my  forces 
were  predicated,  and  especially  whether  any  member  of 
the  family  or  household  of  Mrs.  C.  D.  Williams,  directly  or 
indirectly,  conveyed  to  me  any  information  on  the  subject, 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  answering.  My  command  encamped 
at  Bull's  Gap  on  the  31st  of  August,  1864.  In  the  afternoon 
of  the  3d  of  September,  Colonel  J.  K.  Miller  brought  a  boy, 
some  twelve  years  of  age,  to  my  tent.  The  youth  informed 
me  that  his  name  was  Leidy,  that  he  lived  with  his  parents 
in  Greenville,  eighteen  miles  from  Bull's  Gap;  that  at  12 
m.  that  day  Osman's  Confederate  scouts  had  entered 
Greenville;  that,  fearing  the  loss  of  his  mare,  he  had 
sought  to  escape,  but  had  been  captured;  that  after  re- 
maining in  Greenville  till  the  arrival  of  Vaughan's  brigade, 
Osman's  scouts  had  advanced  with  that  brigade  to  Park's 
Gap,  where  the  brigade  commanded  by  Bradford  en- 
camped; that  the  scouts  then  advanced  in  the  direction  of 
my  camp  about  a  mile,  and  stopped  at  a  farm-house  for 
dinner,  when  the  boy  escaped  through  a  cornfield.  These 
soldiers  and  officers  said  that  General  Morgan  would  spend 
the  night  in  Greenville.  Such  was  the  intelligence  of  the 
boy  that  I  knew  it  was  Morgan's  purpose  to  attack  me, 
and  I  determined  to  take  the  initiative  and  attack  him  at 
daylight.  A  brave,  intelligent  citizen  guided  us  by  the 
Arnet  Gap  road,  to  the  rear  of  the  left  of  the  enemy's  po- 
sition, the  main  body  of  my  force  advancing  at  10  o'clock 
at  night  by  the  direct  road  to  Greenville.  Colonel  Ingerton 
turned  the  enemy's  left  and  getting  into  his  rear,  entered 
Greenville  without   encountering  a  picket.     Information 


The  Truth  of  History.  103 

was  obtained  from  a  trustworthy  woman  that  Clark's  bat- 
talion and  McClung's  battery  were  on  the  further  side  of 
the  village,  and  that  Morgan  and  his  staff  were  guests  of 
Mrs.  C.  D.  Williams.  Receiving  this  information,  Colonel 
Ingerton  ordered  Major  Wilcox,  with  troops  of  the  Thir- 
teenth Tennessee  cavalry,  to  charge  into  the  village  and 
secure  Morgan.  This  order  was  executed  with  spirit  and 
dash.  Before  Wilcox's  command  arrived  at  Mrs.  Williams' 
house,  its  inmates  were  aroused  by  the  firing  in  the  streets 
and  at  the  stables  where  General  Morgan's  orderlies,  with 
his  horses,  were  sleeping.  The  General  and  his  staff,  half- 
dressed,  rushed  out  of  the  house  and  found  the  streets,  on 
all  sides,  filled  with  National  cavalry.  In  the  melee  and 
whilst  attempting  to  escape  through  the  garden,  pistol 
in  hand,  and  without  being  recognized,  General  Morgan 
was  shot  with  a  carbine,  and  instantly  killed,  by  Sergeant 
A.  J.  Campbell,  Thirteenth  Tennessee  cavalry,  who  was  on 
horseback  some  eighty  yards  distant  from  Morgan,  at  the 
southwest  corner  of  Mrs.  Williams'  lot.  Sergeant  Camp- 
bell did  not  know  who  the  person  was  that  had  been  shot 
by  him,  nor  was  the  body  recognized  as  that  of  General 
Morgan  until  the  papers  on  his  person  were  examined, 
nor  will  this  appear  strange  when  it  is  known  that  he  was 
dressed  in  light  blue  pants,  without  cap  or  coat.  It  has 
been  charged  that  General  Morgan  was  shot  after  his  sur- 
render. The  assertion  is  not  only  wholly  groundless,  but 
under  the  circumstances  impossible.  The  soldier  who  fired 
the  shot  was  at  least  eighty  yards  distant,  and  the  wound 
clearly  demonstrated  that  the  ball  entered  below  the  right 
shoulder  and  came  out  near  the  left  breast. 

Such  are  the  facts  connected  with  General  Morgan's 
death.  Neither  Mrs.  Williams  nor  any  member  of  her 
household  gave  me  any  information  concerning  the  move- 
ments or  position  of  the  rebel  troops  upon  which  I  pre- 
dicated the  movements  of  my  command.  It  is  very  strange 
that  such  a  rumor  should  have  gained  circulation,  when  a 
son  of  Mrs.  C.  D.  Williams  was  present  with  General  Mor- 


104  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

gan  and  serving  on  his  staff.  It  has  been  claimed  that  a 
member  of  Mrs.  Williams'  household  conveyed  to  me  at 
Bull's  Gap  information  of  the  arrival  of  General  Morgan  in 
Greenville.  This  report  is  utterly  false.  The  only  infor- 
mation received  is  set  forth  in  this  letter.  About  the  time 
Wilcox's  brigade  entered  the  village  I  attacked  the  enemy 
in  front  vigorously,  compelling  Bradford's  brigade  to  fall 
back  until  it  came  upon  Ingerton's  command,  when  it 
broke  and  fled  in  confusion.  The  news  of  Morgan's  death 
was  rapidly  spread  by  members  of  his  escort,  who  escaped 
from  Greenville,  which  probably  accounts  for  the  rapid  re- 
treat of  his  center  and  right  with  scarcely  an  effort  at 
resistance.  After  the  engagement,  the  body  of  General 
Morgan  was  properly  cared  for  by  the  captured  members 
of  his  staff,  aided  by  my  own  staff.  It  was  my  intention  to 
send  his  remains  to  his  friends  at  Lexington,  Ky.,  but  in 
deference  to  suggestions  of  some  of  his  staff  the  intention 
was  changed,  and  the  remains  were  sent  through  our  lines 
under  a  flag  of  truce. 
I  am,  sir,  very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

Alvan  C.  Gillem, 
Brevet  Major  General,  U.  S.  A. 

And  thus  is  one  of  the  errors  of  the  times  dis- 
covered and  corrected;  one  of  those  strange 
falsehoods,  born  of  malice,  jealously  or  ignor- 
ance, and  oftentimes  used  as  an  assassin's  dag- 
ger to  stab  in  the  dark  or  to  murder  the  inno- 
cent.  Under  all  circumstances  Morgan  paid  the 
penalty  of  his  temerity,  ami  the  Confederacy 
mourned  the  loss  of  a  gallant  champion. 

Randolph,  with  his  trusty  sergeant,  now  turn 
their  horses'  beads  once  again  towards  the  camps 
of  Greneral  Lee,  who  hard  pressed  by  the  over- 


A  Best.  105 

whelming  numbers  of  Grant,  is  falling  back 
and  concentrating  upon  Richmond  and  Peters- 
burg. 

Oppressed  with  anxiety  for  the  loved  ones  at 
home,  and  fearing  the  continued  efforts  of  the 

relentless   Miss  F ,  whom   now  he   believes 

will  stop  at  nothing,  he  dismisses  O'Rourke  near 
the  Natural  Bridge,  and  hies  him  to  the  home  of 
his  lady-love  for  a  brief  sojourn. 


106  From   Bust  to  Ashes. 


Chapter  YIII. 

The  bright  sun  of  a  November  morning  shines 
down  upon  a  body  of  men,  clad,  for  the  most 
part  in  the  uniform  blue  of  the  United  States 
army.  A  few  negroes  ride  with  them,  seemingly, 
upon  equal  footing  with  the  others.  Each  man 
has  fastened  some  article  of  household  goods  to 
his  person  or  his  horse,  and  by  the  quick,  jog- 
trot, the  frequent  turning  of  the  head  to  peer 
over  the  shoulder,  the  anxiety  of  the  rear  files 
to  keep  well  closed  up,  all  gave  evidence  of  a 
marauding  crew,  fearing  pursuit,  and  seeking 
safety  for  their  booty  and  their  own  worthless 
hides. 

The  commanding  officer  is  none  other  than 
our  ubiquitous  Van  Horton,  who,  drawing  rein, 
checks  his  horse,  until  a  sergeant — a  slim,  tow- 
headed  mountaineer  of  some  twenty-six  summers 
of  wild-cat  distilling — draws  near,  and  as  they 
are  now  ascending  a  steep  ascent  of  the  mount- 
ain side,  Van  Horton  addressed  this  Sergeant 
Lamb  (and  a  blacker  sheep  never  browsed  upon 
the  hillsides  of  East  Tennessee)  as  follows: 

"We  have  cleaned  Cedar  Valley  this  time,  and 
with  better  luck.     In  the  first  raid  Old  Randolph 


The  Doctor  Hanged.  107 

did  give  us  some  trouble,  aud  knocked  over 
Sallie  Jenkins.  I  always  told  her  that  men's 
clothes  and  grabbing  too  fast  would  be  the  death 
of  her.  I  wonder  if  the  pious  old  man  won't 
get  worried  when  he  finds  that  he  has  shot  a 
woman!" 

"Not  much!"  answers  the  sergeant.  "She 
had  on  pants,  and  the  pants  were  blue,  and  that 
ended  it;  he  and  all  his  whelps,  male  and  fe- 
male, will  rejoice." 

"We  got  his  old  partner,"  says  Van  Horton, 
"the  doctor,  this  time  for  sure.  But,  I  say, 
Lamb,  the  old  man  was  nearly  gone  the  last 
time  you  strung  him  up ! ' ' 

"Yes,"  says  Lamb,  with  lamb-like  simplicity; 
"he  took  lots  of  choking  for  a  big,  fat  man,  and 
an  old  man  at  that ;  but  if  I  hadn't  kept  it  up 
your  saddle-bags  would  be  lighter  by  a  mite. 
When  Major  Tdiii  Randolph  finds  raid  No.  2 
such  a  success,  and  his  sweetheart's  old  daddy 
houseless  and  homeless,  what  shall  we  look 
for?" 

"I  have  thought  it  all  out,  Lamb,  while  your 
mutton-head  was  resting  in  sleep.  I  have  prom- 
ised my  precious  stand-by,  Miss  F ,  to  re- 
member the  whole  Randolph  family.  I  have 
done  up  the  old  man  and  woman,  as  you  know, 
for  you  helped  me;  we  have  turned  Major  Tom's 
little  darling  out  of  house  and  home ;   and  when 


108  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

we  have  put  our  little  captures  in  a  safe  place, 
we  are  going  for  the  young  man  next.  My  good- 
ness! how  Miss  F hates  that  young  man!" 

"It  seems  mighty  funny,  too,"  says  Lamb, 
for  I  remember  the  time  when  she  was  mighty 
sweet  on  Tom  Randolph.  Both  were  'stuck  up,' 
away  out  of  my  company;  but  I  noticed  how 
she  hung  on  to  him — 'twas  Tommy  this,  Tom- 
my that,  Tommy  to  church,  ball — and  nothing 
unless  Tommy  was  there!  " 

Laughing  with  the  reckless  abandon  of  a 
heartless  ruffian,  Aran  Horton,  placing  his  hand 
familiarly  upon  Lamb's  shoulder,  and  in  a  con- 
gratulatory strain,  says: 

••  Lamb,  on  yesterday  you  gave  the  old  doctor 
a  dose,  and  an  experience  of  one  h ,  but  mul- 
tiply that  by  four,  and  still  that  place  is  one  of 
luxury  in  comparison  to  the  hellish  fury  of  a 
woman  scorned,  and  she  will  spare  neither  the 
male  nor  female  of  the  Major's  name." 

Having  reached  a  place  both  shaded  and  well 
watered,  and  having  put  some  thirty  miles  be- 
tween themselves  and  their  place  of  plunder,  a 
halt  is  called,  and  the  men  are  soon  engaged  in 
preparing  for  supper  and  a  night's  rest. 

No  pickets  are  out,  for  Van  Horton  knows 
\v<41  that  all  the  Confederate  cavalry  are  drawn 
in  and  massed  near  Morristown,  for  the  whole 
force  of  Federal  horsemen  are  moving  on  them, 


The  Bide  to  Morristovm.  109 

accompanied  by  a  strong  body  of  infantry,  and 
if,  by  hovering  near,  and  any  mishap  should 
occur  to  Major  Tom  Randolph,  how  easy  it 
would  be  to  turn  it  to  his  own  account  and  carry 

the  glad  tidings  to  Miss  F ,  to  receive  her 

thanks  and  reap  the  reward  of  his  prowess. 

When  all  were  sleeping,  and  midnight  was 
passed,  two  silent  forms  arose  almost  simultane- 
ously, and,  with  cat-like  tread,  took  their  way 
to  the  head  of  the  gorge,  where,  beneath  the 
jutting  stone,  whose  moss-covered  top  was 
shaded  by  a  huge  old  oak — a  landmark  of  the 
region,  they  hid  away  the  gold  and  jewels  of 
the  good  old  doctor  so  lately  plundered. 

Before  the  sun  had  risen  these  mountain  thieves 
were  in  the  saddle  and  traveling  direct  towards 
Morristown.  Arriving  shortly  after  mid-day 
near  the  village,  and  not  knowing  the  situation 
of  affairs,  an  ebony-hued  contraband  was  di- 
rected to  resume  his  dress  as  a  field  hand,  and 
make  his  way  on  foot,  to  gather  up  all  the  in- 
formation possible  and  return  to  the  troop  in 
their  hidiug. 

In  a  country  thinly  settled  and  densely  tim- 
bered, with  few  roads  to  direct  the  wayfarer,  it 
was  an  easy  matter  to  find  a  hiding-place,  even 
for  a  brigade,  who  might  look  down  with  perfect 
security  upon  an  army  without  a  thought  of 
detection. 


110  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

Night  had  settled  down,  and  the  stars  came 
out  in  the  sky,  shining  brightly  from  their  azure 
canopy;  the  crisp  winds  of  November  sighed 
among  the  dead  and  dying  leaves,  rattling  in 
their  dryness,  and  then  falling  from  the  bough 
which  they  had  gladdened  and  decorated  in  the 
bright  and  happy  sunshine  of  summer.  The 
stillness  of  night  is  of  that  nature  which  brings 
to  the  mind  sweet  visions  of  love  and  peace,  and 
to  the  heart  a  spirit  of  thankfulness  for  all  the 
good  gifts  of  heaven.  No  such  effect  is  produced 
upon  the  motley  crew  lying  wrapped  in  their 
blankets  in  this  mountain  valley. 

The  picket  on  duty  is  startled  by  a  sudden 
burst  of  flame  from  a  valley  far  away  to  the  west ; 
the  heavens  are  brilliantly  illumined  for  a  few 
moments,  then  fade  away.  "Only  another  reb 
burned  out,"  he  thinks,  when  suddenly  the  cry 
of  an  owl,  "hoo!  hoo!  hoo!  "  is  heard.  Knowing 
the  signal,  he  answers,  and  soon  the  crashing  of 
the  leaves  and  twigs  under  the  heavy  tread  of 
footsteps  betokens  the  arrival  of  the  expected 
contraband. 

Having  imparted  his  information,  which  is 
exhaustive,  having  visited  both  sides;  the  camp 
is  soon  wrapt  in  profound  slumber — except  one 
man,  whose  thoughts  are  busy  of  the  morrow. 
Hate,  jealously,  love,  if  such  as  he  could  love, 
the  hope  of  plunder,  all  passed  in  rapid  sueces- 


In  Front  of  Morristown.  Ill 

sion  through  his  heated  brain,  until  nature, 
wearied  at  the  strain  came  with  a  downy  relief 
which  soon  lapsed  into  the  hard  breathing  of  a 
troubled  sleep. 

Morning  finds  the  column  of  Van  Horton  in 
motion,  and  straggling  in  some  semblance  of 
military  order  they  find  themselves  in  front  of 
Morristown  and  between  the  lines  of  the  Federal 
and  Confederate  troops,  and  as  the  Federal  cav- 
alry were  moving  up  to  the  attack,  encouraged 
by  the  presence  of  overwhelming  numbers,  not 
from  choice,  but  from  an  unfortunate  necessity, 
our  plundering  crew  were  caught,  as  it  were, 
between  the  devil  and  deep  sea,  and  facing 
towards  the  village,  prepared  to  join  the  attack. 

As  fate  decreed,  Major  Randolph's  battalion 
was  posted  just  beyond  the  crest  of  the  hill,  the 
crest  itself  being  occupied  with  a  row  of  houses 
principally  those  of  business ;  and  being  anxious 
for  the  fray,  the  Major  had  ridden  into  an  empty 
shed-room,  and,  looking  through  an  aperture,  to 
his  astonishment  and  infinite  gratification,  he 
sees  before  him  the  cowardly  band  of  traitorous 
neighbors  and  the  well-known  person  of  their 
leader. 

Riding  back,  he  tells  the  glorious  news,  and 
his  men,  with  quickened  pulse,  take  firmer  grasp 
upon  carbine  and  sabre,  and  all  feel  that  the  day 
of  reckoning  is  at  hand. 


112  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

The  Federal  cavalry  cautiously  approach, 
driving  slowly  the  gray-clad  skirmishers  before 
them ;  when  amid  the  booming  of  artillery  and 
the  crash  of  musketry,  the  bugles  of  the  Con- 
federates rang  clear  and  thrilling  upon  the  morn- 
ing air,  and  with  flashing  sabres  and  rush  of 
gallant  steeds,  they  bear  down  upon  the  Fed- 
eral advance.  The  shock  causes  a  sudden  re- 
coil, when  Major  Randolph's  battalion,  gallop- 
ing to  the  front,  pour  in  a  volley  from  their 
carbines  at  close  quarters,  which  nearly  annihi- 
lates the  partisan  band  of  Van  Horton,  and  un- 
horses him  under  the  very  sabre  of  Randolph, 
who  is  spared  his  death  or  capture,  for  the  son 
of  our  good  old  doctor  so  lately  plundered,  with 
a  yell  of  fury,  clove  his  unprotected  head  with 
one  stroke  of  the  sabre. 

In  the  smoke  and  confusion,  a  fresh  regiment 
of  Federal  cavalry  came  like  a  whirlwind  upon 
the  little  band  now  fighting  unequal  odds,  crush- 
ing and  overwhelming  them.  Still  Randolph 
cheered  his  men  by  voice  and  deed;  to  the  com- 
mand to  surrender,  he  utters  no  reply;  with 
a  pistol  in  each  hand,  he  fires  away;  when  in 
admiration  and  magnanimous  pity,  an  officer 
again  demands  a  surrender.  Alas!  too  late. 
Wounded  already — with  bowels  torn,  a  sabre 
wielded  with  a  strong  arm,  descends  upon  his 
shoulder,    and    Major    Randolph    falls,    to   be 


The  Street   Word,  "Mother."  113 

crushed  under  the  iron-hoofs  of  charging  squad- 
rons. 

One  more  hero  gone  to  rest ;  one  more  home 
made  sad  and  desolate,  and  one  more  heart 
to  grieve  of  hope  cheerished,  now  lost  and  gone 
forever. 

The  Confederates  are  beaten  back,  and  a 
faithful  soldier,  neighbor  and  companion  of 
Major  Randolph,  having  never  left  his  side, 
takes  his  mutilated  body  to  a  house  near  by, 
doing  all  that  man  could  do  to  ease  the  last  mo- 
ments of  his  dying  chief.  With  all  his  agony, 
no  word  of  complaint  comes  from  this  gallant 
soldier.  Now  and  then  a  frown  of  pain  would 
distort  a  face  always  wreathed  in  pleasant 
smiles,  a  face  at  all  times  attractive — but  now 
clad  in  the  palor  of  death. 

At  midnight,  when  all  was  stillness,  a  move- 
ment of  the  wounded  officer  aroused  the  nod- 
ding Rogers,  who,  leaning  over  the  quiet  form, 
heard  a  gentle  sigh,  and  then  a  murmur,  in 
which  the  sweet  word  of  "Mother"  was  spoken, 
and  then  all  was  still.  The  hunted  spirit  had 
gone,  winging  its  flight  where  there  are  no  more 
battles,  and  where  the  voice  of  the  slanderer  and 
calumniator  is  never  heard. 

An  old  "Knoxville  Register,"  of  November, 
1864,  lies  spread  out  before  me,  yellow  with  age, 
and  rumpled  with  folding  and  worn  in  creases. 


114  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

With  heavy  heart  and  tearful  eyes  I  read  the  fol- 
lowing obituary : 

"  Major  Thomas  T.  Randolph, Battalion,  Tennessee 

Cavalry,  Vaughan's  Brigade,  was  mortally  wounded  near 

Morristown  on  the  15th.     He  was  born  in ,  Virginia, 

and  was  but  26  years  of  age,  when  he  nobly  yielded  his  life 
for  the  sacred  cause  of  Southern  independence. 

"He  entered  at  the  commencement  of  the  war,  and  was 
a  faithful  soldier  to  the  close  of  his  life.  From  June  last 
until  his  battalion  was  transferred  to  East  Tennessee,  he 
was  with  General  Early  in  the  Valley  of  Virginia,  and  par- 
ticipated in  all  his  hard- fought  battles. 

"His  parents  reside  in  G . 

"At  the  time  he  received  his  mortal  wound  he  was  in  the 
advance,  charging  the  enemy.  With  his  last  breath  he  ex- 
pressed the  willingness  with  which  he  submitted  to  the  sac- 
rifice of  his  life  in  defense  of  his  oppressed  country. 

"Surely  his  noble  patriotism  will  embalm  his  memory  in 
the  hearts  of  his  countrymen,  and  the  heroism  of  his  death 
be  a  lasting  reproach  to  his  detractors  in  /i/e." 

I  lay  the  tattered  memory  away,  and  again 
resume  my  pen. 


Retrospective.  115 


Chapter  IX. 

We  will  go  back  to  a  period  of  only  a  few  short 
weeks  previous  to  the  events  detailed  in  the  last 
chapter. 

It  was  at  the  close  of  a  pleasant  September 
day,  for  summer  yet  lingered  in  the  lap  of  fall, 
and  now  the  crimson  rays  of  sunset  were  re- 
flected with  a  softened  splendor,  in  the  cool, 
shimmering  depths  of  the  river,  where  it  winds 
softly  past  the  home  of  Marguerite,  and  so  down 
to  its  junction  with  the  historic  old  James. 

Two  people,  in  a  gaily  decked  canoe,  drifting 
quietly  with  the  stream,  felt  the  beauty  and  im- 
pressiveness  of  the  hour.  Need  we  tell  the 
reader  that  the  parties  are  Randolph  and  the 
fair  Marguerite? 

A  long  silence  is  broken  by  Randolph  remark- 
ing, "I  cannot  believe  that  this  is  our  last  even- 
ing together ;  this  week  has  been  so  like  a  dream 
— a  very  happy  dream  to  me.  I  shall  miss  you 
so  much  when  absent." 

The  maiden  flushed  faintly,  but  did  not  an- 
swer, and  there  was  silence  again  between  them, 
but  in  those  dark  and  lustrous  eyes  there  was  a 
suggestion  of  unshed  tears. 

D  A— 8 


116  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

They  had  reached  the  bank,  and  she  had  risen 
and  turned  her  face  so  that  he  could  not  see  it ; 
he  put  out  his  hand  to  help  her  from  the  boat, 
and  her's  rested  on  it  as  he  stepped  on  shore. 
Slowly  ascending  the  bank,  they  crossed  the 
main  road  running  along  the  river,  and  made 
their  way  to  the  lovely  cottage  nestling  upon 
the  mountain  side,  the  home  of  sweet  Mar- 
guerite. 

As  they  were  passing  an  old  trysting-plaee, 
a  seat  of  woven  twigs  of  hickory,  Randolph, 
still  holding  the  hand  of  Marguerite,  drew  her 
gently  towards  this  place,  seated  her,  and  turn- 
ing a  gaze  both  ardent  and  sad,  said:  "And  this, 
perhaps,  may  be  our  last  and  only  meeting.  We 
have  loved  so  long,  and  I  have  fed  my  thoughts 
night  and  day  with  sweet  memories  of  happy 
moments  passed,  and  happier  ones  I  hope  to 
<-<>me.  Marguerite,  make  not  this  the  ending  of 
all — let  me  this  evening  call  you  by  the  sacred 
name  of  wife ! ' ' 

"No!  no!"  she  answers.  "I  cannot  marry 
you  now;  t'would  break  my  heart  to  send  you 
to  the  front  alone,  and  I  would  be  a  burden  in 
camp;  a  dutiful  daughter,  you  know,  makes  a 
dutiful  wife,  and  to  obey  my  parents'  command, 
prompted  always  by  the  love  and  welfare  of 
t  heir  offspring,  has  always  been  the  pride  of  my 
life  and  the  safeguard  of  my  happiness." 


A  Squaw  Bride.  117 

"Does  he  object  to  my  being  a  soldier,  or  is  it 
that  my  means  are  too  limited?"  asks  Randolph 
in  rather  a  sneering  tone. 

''Now  yon  are  cruel  in  your  anger;  it  is 
neither' ' ;  and — and  here  she  breaks  down  and 
hides  her  face  and  tears  in  her  handkerchief, 
whereupon  Randolph  melts  and  pronounces 
himself  an  incorrigible  stupid  and  a  brute  be- 
sides, and  with  an  humble  heart  and  contrite 
spirit  he  begs  forgiveness,  and  is  happy  again 
to  see  the  sweet  face  of  her  whom  he  loved  so 
dearly  smiling  upon  him  in  forgiveness  of  his 
ill-timed  language. 

"Father  does  say  that  you  have  made  your 
home  out  West,  and  the  people  out  there  are 
so  wild  and  desperate  that  he  would  not  like 
to  see  me  living  in  the  midst  of  such  a  motley 
assemblage  of  such  men  and  Indians — like  a 
squaw  in  fact"" 

At  this  timid  and  sapient  revelation,  Ran- 
dolph is  convulsed  with  laughter.  The  Margue- 
rite of  his  vision,  she  of  his  heart,  she  of  his  very 
presence,  "a  squaw ! ' '  The  idea  is  too  ridiculous, 
and  again  he  makes  the  welkin  ring  with  peals  of 
laughter ;  and  feeling  in  the  ecstacy  of  his  mirth 
that  a  demonstration  is  necessary  to  establish  his 
claim  as  frontiersman,  he  fairly  scalps  the  maiden 
in  his  effort  to  kiss  the  cheek  now  crimson  with 
blushes  at  the  unseemly  elation. 


118  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

" Shall  I  go  and  see  the  Governor!"  he  asks. 

"No,  not  yet,"  she  answers.  UI  shall  never 
give  my  love  to  any  other  but  you.  do  back  to 
your  command ;  love  me  always  as  you  do  now ; 
let  me  hear  from  you  often.  Your  country  first, 
myself  afterwards.  Oh!  if  you  knew  my  heart, 
you  would  feel  the  bliss  of  another  life,  free 
from  war,  absence,  and  the  dread  of  danger. 
1  will  pray  for  you  and — but  here  comes  Sadie ; 
do  be  cheerful  and  say  nothing  of  the  past. 

Slowly  approaches  the  sunny-haired  little 
maiden,  and  reaching  the  lovers,  she  takes  both 
hands  of  Randolph,  and  looking  him  steadily  in 
the  face,  with  melting  eyes  and  lips  that  tremble 
with  emotion,  she  says:  "I  have  heard  from 
home,  and  my  father  has  so  many  kind  words  to 
say  of  you;  he  knew  not  that  I  should  see  yon, 
but  in  his  name  I  thank  you  so  kindly  for  your 
good  services  in  his  behalf.  What  can  I  ever  do 
to  repay  you  ? ' ' 

u Don't  mention  it,  Sadie;  glad  to  hear  that 
the  old  gentleman  got  safely  home ;  there  is  noth- 
ing which  I  would  not  do  to  make  you  happy." 

"Oh,  this  war!  Sufferings  without  number, 
anxieties,  starvation  and  death!"  says  Sadie. 
After  a  pause  she  Lells  them  "  that  tea  is  quite 
ready,  and  after  partaking  it  1  want  to  read  to 
you  the  expression  of  my  thoughts,  so  beautifully 
penned  by  'Daisy,'  a  lady  of  Bristol,  Tennessee. 


"  You're  Been  Crying."  119 

In  the  meantime  we'll  adjourn  to  the  parlor 
where  Captain  Randolph  can  read  my  father's 
letter,  and  you,  Marguerite,  can  go  and  bathe 
those  pretty  black  eyes.     You've  been  crying." 

"  You  are  in  error,"  says  Randolph,  very  sol- 
emnly. "It  is  I  who  should  show  traces  of  re- 
cent tears.  Marguerite  insists  upon  my  being  a 
squaw-man." 

"A  what?" 

"Why,  a  squaw-man;  isn't  that  plain 
enough?"  answers  Randolph.  "Wouldn't  Mar- 
guerite grace  a  tepee f  Think  of  her  gorgeous 
trousseau  of  a  bandana  handkerchief  and  a  red 
blanket !  Let  me  disabuse  you  ladies  of  this  East- 
ern idea,  for  beauty,  elegance  and  refinement, 
the  West,  yes,  the  Far  West,  furnish  parallel  ex- 
amples of  excellence  in  knowledge  and  refine- 
ment, and  frequently  outvie  their  Eastern 
sisters." 

Randolph's  panegyric  upon  the  West  is  here 
interrupted  by  the  announcement  that  tea  was 
served. 

When  the  family  are  seated  once  more  in  the 
parlor,  Sadie  insists  upon  reading  the  poetry 
heretofore  referred  to  as  her  thoughts  and  her 
prayer,  and  in  a  sweet,  distinct  voice  read  as 
follows : 


120  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

"Implora  pace,  Oh,  our  Father! 

Listen  to  us  now, 
While  in  earnest  supplication 

Before  thy  throne  we  bow; 
Death  rides  forth  amid  the  storm, 

And  war's  red  lightnings  blaze, 
Dark  clouds,  and  gloomy  shadows  fall, 

And  dim  life's  brightest  days. 

"The  brow  of  Mars  is  wreathed  in  fame, 

And  the  shining  laurel  bound 
With  the  hair  of  dead  men,  dyed  in  blood 

From  many  a  ghastly  wound; 
The  wail  of  childless  parents 

The  insatiate  monster  claims, 
With  shriek  of  helpless  womanhood. 

And  the  village  home  in  flames. 

"The  ruthless  shot,  with  hatred  winged, 

Swift  rushing  through  the  air, 
Tears  the  limbs  of  age  and  youth, 

Nor  spares  the  strong  and  fair; 
Homes  once  the  scene  of  beauty's  spell 

Now  desolate  and  drear; 
Where  joy  and  plenty  once  did  reign 

Now  woe  and  want  appear. 

"Life  seems  a  dream — a  horrid  dream — 

Of  naught  but  care  and  pain, 
From  which  we'd  give  a  world  of  wealth 

To  wake  in  peace  again; 
Our  land  one  scene  of  grief  and  sin, 

A  wrathful,  rolling  sea; 
Oh!  Father,  guide  our  nation's  helm 

From  every  danger  free. 

"  Hush  the  storm-lashed  billows — 
Let  us  not  longer  grope, 
But  give  us  o'er  the  darkened  foam 


Imp!  or  a  Pace.  121 

The  bright  day-star  of  hope. 
Hear  us!  Oh,  our  Maker!  hear  us! 

Turn  the  leaden  cloud  away, 
And  show  us  the  soft  '  silver  lining,' 

That  foretells  the  coming  day. 

"We  would  ask  no  selfish  joy, 

Nor  pleasure's  boon  implore, 
But  that  the  news  of  battle's  woe 

Might  wring  our  souls  nomore. 
Grant  us  Faith  to  bear  us  up 

Till  death's  dark  hour  is  o'er. 
Remove  thy  chastening  rod,  and  give  us 

Hearts  to  love  Thee  more. 

"  We  have  scorned  the  Shepherd's  fold 

And  wandered  far  away, 
And  cannot  hope  that  we  deserve 

The  mercies  that  we  pray. 
Yet,  spare  us,  Father,  for  the  sake 

Of  Him  who  died  to  save, 
And  rescue  our  dear  Southern  land 

From  slavery's  dismal  grave. 

"  Oh,  dry  the  eyes  of  those  that  weep 

For  the  loved  ones  gone ; 
Soothe  children's  cry,  and  woman's  wail, 

And  man's  expiring  groan; 
Turn  back  the  ruthless  hireling  foe, 

Let  war's  fierce  tumult  cease; 
Stretch  o'er  us  Thine  almighty  arm, 

Oh,  God!  we  ask  for  peace!" 

Thus  finishing,  she  sadly  says:  "It  looks  hard 
for  me  to  quote  the  'ruthless,  hireling  foe,' 
when  my  good  and  noble  brother  is  enlisted  in 
the  ranks  of  the  invaders,  and  I  a  Yankee  born; 


122  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 

but  when  I  remember  that  all  I  loved  was 
snatched  from  me  by  a  bullet  from  the  rifle  of 
an  imported  foreigner,  fighting  for  money,  I  feel 
half  rebel." 

The  host,  from  his  easy  chair,  which  his  aged 
form  holds  down  with  250  pounds  of  solid  flesh 
and  bone,  his  hands  clasped  before  him  and  his 
thumbs  revolving  in  concentric  circles,  thus 
breaks  the  pause: 

"I  admire  your  verses,  Sadie,  as  I  admire 
you;  they  breathe  a  sweet  perfume  of  peace  and 
piety.  Since  Jackson's  death,  our  old  neighbor 
and  friend,  I  have  thought  more  about  a  peace- 
ful solution  of  all  our  troubles ;  with  his  life  went 
all  my  hopes  of  freedom  and  success." 

"Let  us  not  bring  camp-talk  to  this  charming 
circle,"  says  Randolph;  "we  are  surfeited  else- 
where. I  will  gladly  volunteer  to  escort  Miss 
Marguerite  to  the  piano  to  cheer  our  hearts  with 
sweet  song." 

The  music  which  once  won  the  heart  in  col- 
lege-boy days  again  lingers  in  the  ear  and  thrills 
the  soul  with  memories  of  happy  moments  in 
days  long  past;  the  hours  fly  swiftly  by,  and 
late  the  "Grood-night"  is  spoken,  and  stillness 
reigDS  in  "Rose  Cottage." 

Early  next  morning  Randolph  arose,  and, 
wandering  aimlessly  among  the  shrubbery,  he 
espied  a  moving  object  coming  down  the  river 


One  More  General  Killed.  123 

road.  It  proved  to  be  a  man,  and  nearer  still 
it  proved  to  be  a  soldier,  equipped  with  knap- 
sack and  blanket. 

To  the  question  of  "What  command?"  the 
soldier  halted,  and  gracefully  saluting,  answered: 

"Company  K.,  1st  Regiment  of Troops,  and 

that  being  lately  transferred,  was  on  his  way 
to  report  to  Captain  Randolph  at  Petersburg." 

"But  Captain  Randolph  is  a  member  of  the 

staff  of  General  R ,  and  I  am  the  Randolph, 

and  will  leave  in  a  few  hours  for  my  post." 

"The  stranger  answered  that  " Captain  Ran- 
dolph is  no  longer  on  his  staff;  your  General 
was  killed  in  the  Valley ;  he  died  like  a  soldier, 
with  his  feet  in  the  stirrups  and  in  front  of 
battle." 

The  gallant  hero  dead!  The  friend  of  his 
boyhood,  and  of  his  manhood,  gone  forever 
from  his  gaze.  His  eyes  grew  moist,  and  the 
helpless  spirit  of  the  inner  man  cried  out  in 
agony,  "Thy  will  be  done! " 

Bidding  the  soldier  to  await  their  breakfast, 
the  solemn  meal  is  soon  dispatched,  and  but 
few  hours  elapse  before  they  are  steaming  to 
Petersburg  and  its  grim  trenches,  bidding  defi- 
ance to  Grant  and  his  hosts. 


124  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 


Chaptek  X. 

Fate,  with  some,  and  the  "decree  of  an  all-wise 
Providence"  of  another,  has  been  the  ready 
method  of  thousands  in  solving  the  cause  or 
effect  of  a  momentous  occurrence  in  man's 
life;  but  to  the  hard  thinker  and  the  more 
material  mind  there  seems  to  be  "a  missing- 
link  ' '  in  the  solution  of  the  extraordinary  facil- 
ities afforded  the  viciously  wicked  of  evading 
death,  and  oftener  of  securing  a  fortunate  and 
happy  deliverance  from  impending  danger. 

It  is  an  adage  that  "the  good  die  early,"  but 
a  great  many  die  early,  and  it  does  not  follow 
that  all  that  die  early  are  good ;  and  perhaps  the 
bad  ones  who  linger  along  are  given  more  time 
for  redemption  by  a  kind  Providence.  Let  us 
hope  so,  for  it  seems  that  neither  Fate  nor 
Providence  had  decreed  that  Van  Horton  should 
die  on  that  bloody  hillside  at  Morristown.  And 
we  shall  proceed  to  follow  this  worthy,  after  his 
fall,  when  his  troop  was  routed  by  Major  Ran- 
dolph's battalion. 

Badly  hurt  and  faintly  breathing,  he  was  care- 
fully moved  to  one  of  the  houses  of  the  village, 
and  after  weeks  of  wavering  between  life  and 


A   Perfumed  Invitation.  125 

death,  lie  was  at  last  able  to  be  transferred,  and 
was  accordingly  forwarded  by  train  to  Washing- 
ton, D.  C.  Emerging  from  the  hospital  a  shadow 
of  his  former  self,  his  forlorn  appearance  as- 
sisted by  his  artful  skill  in  deception,  enabled 
this  Union  officer  to  parade  his  wounds  and  his 
person  for  the  admiring  gaze  of  the  social  circles 
of  Washington. 

With  the  good  living  and  charming  festivities 
of  Washington,  Van  Horton  was  soon  himself 
again,  and  as  the  winter  was  fast  drawing  to  a 
close,  his  thoughts  naturally  turned  towards  the 
reorganization  of  his  band,  and  the  means  of 
replacing  those  who  were  left  on  the  hillside  at 
Morristown. 

While  quietly  seated  in  his  apartment,  his 
war-like  schemes  are  suddenly  dissipated  by  a 
timid  knock  at  the  door,  and  in  answer  to  the 
invitation  to  enter,  a  messenger  appears  and 
hands  Van  Horton  a  daintily  perfumed  noter 
which  proved  to  be  an  invitation  to  attend  an 
entertainment  at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Courtnay. 
There  were  to  be  tableaux  vivant,  music  and 
dancing. 

Knowing  Mr.  Courtnay  to  be  among  the 
wealthiest  of  the  wealthy,  one  of  the  largest  army 
contractors  and  a  power  at  the  throne,  an  ac- 
ceptance was  written  immediately. 

The  hours  went  by  with  wearisome  step,  but 


126  From   Bust  to  Ashes. 

the  moment  came  at  last,  and  alighting  from  his 
carriage,  his  person  arrayed  in  the  gorgeous  uni- 
form of  a  colonel  of  cavalry,  he  steps  upon  the 
Brussels  carpet,  laid  down  from  the  curl)  across 
the  broad  sidewalk,  and  enters  the  brilliantly 
lighted  parlors  of  the  lately-fledged  monetary 
lordliug,  where  his  eyes  are  dazzled  at  the  flash 
of  many  lights,  the  lovely  hues  of  silks  and 
satins,  the  beautiful  array  of  ferns,  flowers  and 
plants,  while  decorating  rest  the  wearied  eyes 
with  their  soft,  deep  green;  while  the  ears  are 
assailed  with  the  chatter  of  men  and  women, 
varied  with  the  merry  laugh  of  some  happy 
maiden,  or  with  the  inharmonious  haw!  haw! 
haw!  of  the  opposite  sex,  but  all  chastened  and 
subdued  by  a  splendid  orchestra,  who  sit  in 
improvised  orchestral  seats  before  a  large  cur- 
tain. 

After  a  formal  introduction,  Van  Horton  lays 
siege  to  the  eldest  Miss  Court n ay.  whose  stately 
figure,  bright  gray  eyes,  and  light-blonde  hair, 
has  had  the  effect  of  adding  a  percentage  to  the 
value  of  her  inheritance  in  the  eyes  of  her  gal- 
lant escort  and  new-born  admirer. 

Turning  to  his  companion,  Van  Horton  says: 
"Fresh  from  the  scenes  of  bloodshed,  and  the 
tameness  and  manifold  sorrows  of  the  hospital, 
what  a  glorious  feast  for  the  eyes  and  for  ( im- 
pressively)   the   heart,"    and   looking  tenderly 


Van  Horton's  Modesty.  127 

down  into  the  eyes  of  the  lovely  woman  by  his 
side,  he  adds:  "For  one  so  humble  as  myself, 
without  prestige  or  record,  I  might  say  that  it 
all  far  exceeds  my  deserts." 

"Your  deserts!"  she  echoes.  "Colonel  Van 
Horton,  how  can  you  say  such  things?  Is  it  to 
your  modesty,  or  are  you  not  endeavoring  to 
presume  upon  the  ignorance  of  your  company? 
Can  I  not  read?  Have  I  not  ears  to  hear?  Ah! 
The  vanity  of  man." 

Pardon  me  the  suspicion  of  ignorance,"  he 
answers,  "and  least  of  all  any  doubt  of  the 
power  of  your  eyes,  and  I  thank  you  for  your 
kindness  in  imputing  to  my  modesty  that  which 
might  have  been  more  properly  set  down  to  my 
ignorance." 

With  a  face  beaming  with  animation,  she  says: 
"Do  you  pretend  to  say  that  you  are  ignorant  of 
the  fact  that  you  have  been  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  colonel,  and  that  your  gallantry  has 
been  mentioned  by  special  order  f^ 

uAh!  "  he  answers,  "  it  is  all  the  mere  routine 
of  a  soldier's  life,"  and  showing  an  unconcerned 
air  for  the  honors  heaped  upon  him,  which  he 
calculates  will  impress  his  companion  with  the 
nobleness  of  his  soul,  which  seeks  only  the  glory 
and  maintenance  of  "the  flag,"  he  leads  her  to 
a  seat  where  the  tableaux  can  best  be  seen,  as 
all  are  now  being  seated,  attracted  by  the  an- 


128  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

nouncement,  followed  by  a  grand  overture  by 
the  orchestra.     The  curtain  rises  on 

Scene  1.  "Deserted."  A  grief -stricken 
mother  kneels  by  the  bedside  of  a  sick  child; 
with  disheveled  hair  and  eyes  uplifted,  she  im- 
plores Heaven's  help  for  a  worse  than  widowed 
woman,  and  for  the  safety  of  her  suffering  child. 
A  little  boy  with  golden  ringlets  falling  upon 
his  shoulders,  stands  near,  gently  fondling  his 
mother's  hair,  while  the  scattered  ornaments  of 
the  room  show  a  confusion  born  of  misfortune 
and  pent-up  sorrow.  The  outside  scenery  is  of 
an  English  cottage  home,  nestling  in  a  wealth 
of  shrubs  and  flowers  and  creeping  vines;  its 
trim  walk,  its  diamond-glazed  windows  and 
wealth  of  colors,  contrasting  so  dismally  with 
the  interior.  But  not  on  this  was  VanHorton's 
eves  riveted,  but  upon  a.  little  sign-board  which 
read: 

"TO  MELROSE  ONE  MILE." 

Van  Horton  looks  with  bated  breath  and 
startled  interest,  when  the  soft  voice  beside  him 
remarks:  "Lovely,  isn't  it  ?  My  cousin  volun- 
teered her  services  and  promised  this  a  success; 
I  am  so  pleased  that  you  are  interested." 

"Indeed  I  am  interested,"  he  answers,  and 
with  a  voice  strangely  altered,  he  asks:  "And 
to  what  has  this  scene  a  reference — a  mere  fancy 
of  the  brain,  I  presume!" 


Tableaux  Vivant.  129 

"I  cau  only  refer  you  to  my  Cousin  Sadie;  she 
is  the  author  and  originator  of  all;  she  is  a 
great  favorite  of  my  father." 

uAh!  really,"  he  replies,  and  silence  follows, 
until  is  loudly  announced  : 

Scene  2.  u False  in  Lore  and  False  in 
War."  To  the  left  of  the  stage  and  right  of 
the  audience  was  a  man,  an  almost  facsimile  in 
size,  age  and  appearance  of  Van  Horton,  kneel- 
ing in  the  attitude  of  a  lover  pleading  his  suit. 
while  bending  over  him  in  all  the  glory  of  a 
triumphant   coquette,   stands  no  less  a  person 

than  Miss  F ,  of   doubtful  fame ;    old   men 

and  women  and  young  girls  kneel  with  uplifted 
hands  holding  jewels  and  money  as  offerings, 
while  young  children  cower  in  fear  behind 
them — with  slow  music  the  curtain  falls. 

"Your  cousin  has  a  genius  for  the  lugu- 
brious," says  Van  Horton.     "Is  this  the  end."' 

"Oh,  no;  only  one  more  scene,"  says  she. 
Why  do  you  not  applaud  with  the  rest?  I 
am  sure  it  is  beautiful,  and  Sadie  has  worked  so 
hard." 

He  evades  an  answer  by  asking:  "And  who 
pray,  did  you  say  was  the  gifted  author  of  our 
tableaux!" 

"It  is  my  cousin,  Sadie  Carday.  Why  she  is 
just  lovely;  so  meek  and  gentle,  and  besides 
she  is  just  out  of  the  rebel  lines,  but  her  gallant 


130  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

and  loyal  brother  is  the  treasure  under  our  roof, 
and  condones  all  of  Sadie's  rebel  proclivities." 

Van  Horton  feels  the  sand  giving  away  be- 
neath his  feet,  First,  Sadie  Carday  here,  whose 
very  tableaux  were  studied  events  of  his  life; 
and  now  her  brother  appears  upon  the  scene, 
who  is  spoken  of  in  the  language  of  pride  and 
affection  and  so  studiously  expressed,  thus  leav- 
ing him  hopeless  and  helpless  in  his  artful  and 

wicked  designs.     And   Miss   F ,  when  and 

how  came  she  here?  This,  and  much  more 
flashed  through  the  wondering  brain  of  the 
treacherous  Van  Horton. 

Oh,  man!  wait  and  see!  Heartless  and  brood- 
ing crime  begets  a  multitude  of  woes,  that  all  the 
efforts  of  wealth  and  intellect  cannot  still,  and 
seldom  assuage. 

"I  will  introduce  you  after  the  next  piece, " 
says  Miss  Courtnay,  "and  I  flatter  myself  that 
you  will  surely  fall  in  love,"  and  immediately 
the  tinkle  of  the  bell  is  heard,  and  there  is  an- 
nounced: 

Scene  3.  The  Fruits  of  Slander  and  Woman's 
Hate.  The  lights  are  burning  dimly;  a  dark 
shadow  falls  upon  the  scene;  slow,  dirge-like 
music  falls  faintly  upon  the  ear.  An  aged  man 
and  woman  are  bending  in  mute  despair  over  all 
that  is  left  of  their  noble  soldier  boy,  while  a 
beautiful  woman,  with  her  long,  golden  tresses 


Van  Horton  Dismayed.  131 

falling  over  her  shoulders  kneels  in  prayerful 
attitude  at  his  feet.  The  background  is  a  well- 
executed  scene  of  a  wrecked  and  ruined  home. 

The  make-up  of  the  figures  are  of  Sadie's  cre- 
ation, and  are  known  to  herself,  and  more 
especially  to  one  other,  and  that  "one  other"  is 
Van  Horton,  who,  with  all  the  callowness  of  his 
robber-heart,  has  suffered  an  agony  of  mingled 
wrath  and  hate.  Well  does  he  know  that  Wash- 
ington is  no  place  for  him;  but,  first,  he  must 
know  what  brought  Sadie  here,  and,  with  that 
end  in  view,  he  casually  remarks  to  Miss  Court- 
nay: 

"And  does  your  cousin  reside  here,  or  is  she 
only  visiting!" 

To  which  she  replies :  ' '  Only  a  visitor,  as  her 
brother,  who,  by  hardship  and  exposure,  is  now 
confined  to  his  room  in  this  house,  needs  the 
attention  of  so  sweet  and  skilful  a  nurse." 

And  now  the  curtain  falls,  the  representations 
are  ended,  and  the  guests  are  rising  from  their 
seats  and  scattering  over  the  spacious  rooms  in 
quest  of  friends  and  enjoyment.  All  seems 
confusion,  and  happily  for  Van  Horton,  he  finds 
a  suitable  occasion  to  accomplish  his  end. 

Suddenly  he  remembers  "that  urgent  busi- 
ness, official  of  course,  demands  his  attention  at 
this  very  hour  ( looking  at  his  watch);  except 
for  the  appointment  previously  made,  he  could 

D  A— 9 


132  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

not  find  it  possible  to  tear  himself  away,  but 
duty,  imperative  duty  alone,  could  cause  him  to 
deny  himself  the  happiness  of  his  present  com- 
pany, with  whom  he  had  so  much  enjoyed  the 
delightful  representations  which  had  just  been 
given." 

And  with  much  more  of  the  same  stuff,  before 
Sadie  could  put  in  an  appearance,  our  gallant, 
newly  fledged  colonel  has  dropped  a  crisp  shin- 
plaster  into  the  ready  hand  of  the  obsequious 
porter,  who  politely  hands  him  his  chappeau 
and  helps  him  into  his  ample  overcoat. 

Seated  in  his  carriage  as  it  whirls  him  to  his 
quarters,  his  thoughts  are  troublesome  ones, 
and  he  asks  himself  over  and  over  again:  "How 
came  these  things  known  to  Sadie — by  letter  or 
in  person?" 

Verily,  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard. 

When  Sadie  enters  she  is  overwhelmed  with 
congratulations,  but  when  meeting  with  her 
cousin  there  is  a  mystic  recognition,  that  inde- 
scribable look — part  surprise,  part  contempt,  and 
another  greater  part  of  "  there,  didn't  I  tell  you 
so,"  which  only  a  woman  can  express  without 
lip  or  tongue. 

Then  bursting  into  laughter,  Miss  Courtnay 
relates  the  conversation  of  the  doughty  Colonel 
— his  ignorance  of  Miss  Sadie,  his  enjoyment 
of  the  scenes,  and  his  sudden  call  to  duty. 


The  Imposter  Squelched.  133 

To  all  of  which  Sadie  listens  with  the  greatest 
attention,  and  remarks: 

"We  have  squelched  the  hateful  imposter, 
and  my  Southern  friend,  Marguerite,  will  have 
an  interesting,  as  well  as  instructive,  budget  of 
news  to  impart  in  her  next  letter  to  her  intended. 
I  am  so  glad  that  I  posted  you  so  well  as  to  the 
character  of  the  man.  You  must  have  played 
your  part  admirably." 

"What  a  strange  coincidence  that  you  should 
be  thrown  into  the  society  of  this  man's  deserted 
wife!"  says  Miss  Courtnay. 

"Not  at  all,"  answers  Sadie;  "there  are 
thousands  making  inquiries  at  the  bureau  at 
which  my  father  presides,  and  when  this  par- 
ticular inquiry  was  made  '  Van  Horton'  was  the 
middle  name  used  and  not  the  surname,  and 
getting  from  the  lady  his  description,  I  placed 
him  in  a  moment.  My  greatest  wonder  is  how 
such  a  nice  woman  could  cross  the  ocean  for 
such  a  trifling  fellow." 

"Let  the  man  go,"  says  Miss  Courtnay,  "and 
let  us  enjoy  the  ball." 

"I  wish  the  ball  was  over,"  says  Sadie,  with 
an  air  of  fatigue.  "I  shall  not  dance;  but,  mark 
my  words,  'imperative  duty'  "  ( Sadie  says  this 
with  marked  emphasis)  "will  cause  Colonel  Van 
Horton  to  leave  Washington  before  the  flag  rises 
over  the  dome  of  the  capitol  tomorrow." 


134  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

And  leaving  their  cosey  corner,  they  mingle 
with  the  happy  throng. 

And  true  to  Sadie's  prediction,  before  12 
o'clock  next  day  the  Colonel  is  steaming  towards 
Sherman's  army  marching  on  to  Atlanta. 


Grand  Old  "Cockade  City:1  135 


Chaptek  XI. 

Nevee  before  in  the  history  of  nations  is  there 
presented  a  spectacle  of  such  pure  and  unfalter- 
ing devotion,  such  grandeur  of  courageous  suf- 
fering, and  such  sublimity  of  sacrifice  as  was 
presented  by  the  citizens  and  troops  defending 
the  gallant  old  Cockade  City  of  Petersburg,  Vir- 
ginia. 

With  four  millions  of  negroes  behind  them, 
encouraged  by  every  art  and  appliance  of  a 
cunning  and  relentless  foe  to  deeds  of  violence, 
of  arson,  plunder  and  murder;  with  the  ships  of 
a  nation  a  century  old  blockading  their  ports 
and  harrying  their  coast,  a  new-born  Confeder- 
acy, of  itself  and  by  itself,  struggles  for  life  and 
liberty. 

The  unequal  struggle  still  goes  on.  The  winter 
of  '64-65  is  a  hard  one  for  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia,  poorly  fed  and  poorly  clad  as  they 
were ;  still  there  is  no  lack  of  faith  in  the  success 
of  their  cause,  nor  thought  of  surrender.  If  a 
thousand  Yankees  are  slaughtered,  two — yes, 
five  thousand  more  are  ready  to  supply  their 
places  from  the  criminals  and  slums  of  Europe ; 
but  if  one  hundred  Confederates  are  lost,  who 


136  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

are  to  fill  their  places?  Nearly  true  Avas  the 
Yankee  General's  remark,  that  "They  had  robbed 
the  cradle  and  the  grave." 

The  bulk  of  the  Confederate  army  is  occupy- 
ing the  City  of  Petersburg  and  vicinity.  Grand, 
old  Petersburg!  Her  gardens  now  are  torn  with 
shot  and  shell,  her  houses  razed  and  crumbling 
under  the  incessant  fire  of  the  enemy,  her  help- 
less and  infirm  exposed  to  all  the  hardships  of 
war's  most  fearful  trials,  and.  added  to  all,  is  the 
gaunt  figure  of  want,. which  stalks  in  their  midst 
with  threatening  mien,  and  the  grim  monster, 
Death,  reaps  with  both  hands  from  war  and 
famine. 

The  lines  confront  one  another,  extending 
from  the  Weldon  railroad,  on  the  right,  around 
the  city,  and  following  the  line  of  the  Richmond 
&  Petersburg  railroad  and  east  of  it,  to  and 
about  the  City  of  Richmond. 

The  works  of  both  armies  are  upon  an  exten- 
sive scale,  and  seem  almost  endless  when  viewed 
from  a  single  point.  Well-equipped  batteries 
peer  out  from  their  embrasures  in  forts,  re- 
doubts and  salients,  connected  with  trenches  and 
parapets,  affording  protection  to  the  troops  lay- 
ing behind  them. 

Now  and  then  a  solitary  bastion  fort  of  the 
Yankees  stands  out  in  an  isolated  position, 
mounting  its  heavy  siege  guns  and  flying  its  big 


Mail,  Here!  137 

garrison  flag — a  mighty  hedging  machine — to 
accomplish  by  numbers  and  hunger  what  cannot 
be  done  by  feat  of  arms. 

Randolph  has  been  here  now  many  weeks,  and, 
early  one  morning,  as  he  emerges  from  an  ad- 
dit  some  twelve  hundred  feet  long,  to  whose 
mine,  at  the  end  of  it,  the  Yankees  were  offered 
many  inducements  to  approach,  he  unexpectedly 
and  most  gladly  meets  an  old  fellow-cadet,  Gen- 
eral Lane,  who  now  with  his  infantry  brigade 
supports  the  big  guns  of  Battery  45,  served  by 
a  detachment  of  the  glorious  old  AVashington 
Artillery,  and  enjoys  some  moments  of  conver- 
sation and  happy  reminiscence. 

Having  met  this  command  before,  Randolph 
notes  the  appearance  of  their  ranks,  thinned  to  a 
skeleton  by  battle,  sickness  and  hard  service,  and 
leaves  for  his  camp  in  a  saddened  frame  of  mind 

Tired,  hungry  and  low-spirited,  he  sits  wearily 
down  in  his  tent  to  await  the  call  of  "grub." 
Suddenly  his  ears  are  saluted  by  a  cheerful  call 
of  "Mail!  Mail  here!"  and,  listening,  he  hears 
called  aloud,  "Captain  George  P.  Randolph!" 
accompanied  by  the  remark,  "and  from  a 
woman,  too,  by  jingo!     Look  at  the  fist! " 

Very  soon  the  letter  is  before  his  gaze,  but 
shuts  out  all  thoughts  of  hunger  and  weariness, 
and  adds  to  the  weight  of  his  troubles  a  load  as 
heavy  and  burdensome  as  it  was  unexpected. 


138  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

In  brief,  it  tells  him  of  the  burning  of  the 
home  of  Marguerite,  of  the  loss  of  all  the  valu- 
able improvements  attached  to  the  place — all 
given  to  the  flames  by  the  barn-burning  raid  of 
Hunter — and  also  tells  of  their  intended  removal 
to  Columbia,  South  Carolina,  as  a  point  of 
safety ;  for  was  it  not  there  that  the  Confederacy 
printed  their  money?  and  with  expressions  of 
devotion,  closes  with  a  prayer  for  his  safe  de- 
livery from  all  danger  by  sickness  and  battle. 

His  hunger  appeased,  his  weariness  of  mind 
tempts  him  to  wander  among  his  fellow-officers, 
when  even  this  privilege  is  denied,  for  an  orderly 
curtly  tells  him  that  his  presence  is  demanded 
immediately  at  headquarters. 

Upon  reporting,  he  is  ordered  to  take  two 
days'    rations   and  twenty   men  and   report  to 

Greneral  G- ,  near  Rives  Salient,  at  9  o'clock 

p.  m. 

Promptly  he  has  crossed  the  pontoons  and  is 
wending  his  way  through  the  old  "  Cockade 
City,"  a  title  earned  in  1812  and  glorified  in 
1864. 

The  moon,  in  queenly  garb,  was  flooding  all 
nature  with  brilliant,  silvery  light ;  the  house- 
tops glistened  with  the  frosts  of  the  chilly  night, 
and  the  deep  shadows  of  tall  houses,  dark  and 
tenantless,  are  checkered  with  the  flickering 
lights  of  those  who  cannot    or   will   not   leave. 


Special  Duty.  139 

The  streets  are  deserted,  ploughed  with  shot  and 
shell ;  the  fine  houses  on  Bolingbrook  street  a 
continuous  line  of  wreck  and  ruin,  with  falling 
walls  and  tottering  chimneys ;  now  and  then  the 
sullen  roar  of  heavy  guns  is  heard,  but  the  sharp 
report  of  the  picket's  rifle  is  never-ceasing. 
i  Every  step  unfolds  a  vision  of  the  incarnate 
deviltry  of  grim-visaged  war.  Bomb-proofs 
upon  private  grounds,  for  the  security  of  the 
owners  in  case  of  bombardment,  are  numerous; 
everywhere  bears  the  evidence  of  long  months 
of  unceasing  struggle. 

Randolph  reports  for  duty,  and  is  assigned  to 
the  charge  of  a  work  of  pick-and-shovel,  for 
which  he  prepares  to  rest  in  the  folds  of  his 
blanket,  while  waiting  the  "dark  of  the  moon." 

It  is  past  midnight,  when  the  picket  gently 
places  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder  and  tells  him 
"it  is  time." 

Arousing  quickly,  Randolph  has  his  men  in 
hand,  and  with  string  and  pegs,  they  mark  the 
line,  and  burrow  like  so  many  moles,  until  the 
coming  of  day,  when  the  unsuspecting  eyes  of 
the  enemy  behold  debatable  ground  no  longer, 
but  safely  behind  the  fresh-raised  earth  are  good 
men,  with  rifle  and  bayonet,  to  hold  it. 

As  an  evidence  that  this  approach  to  a  closer 
relationship  than  is  recognized  as  agreeable, 
from  right  and  left  and  front  a  storm  of  shot 


1-40  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

and  shell  are  poured  upon  them,  but  lying  down 
close,  hugging  the  ditches,  they  spend  a  "long, 
long,  weary  day,"  listening  and  watching. 

Night  falls  again ;  a  comparative  stillness  fol- 
lows, and  at  the  same  time  as  before  they  begin 
to  extend  the  work,  but  not  as  before,  unopposed 
or  unseen,  for  in  a  twinkling  sheets  of  fire  flash 
from  the  parapets  of  the  enemy,  while  their  ar- 
tillery opens  with  a  roar  that  shakes  the  earth, 
killing  and  wounding  several  and  driving  the 
remainder  to  the  cover  of  their  pits. 

This  brought  on  an  interchange  of  compli- 
ments between  the  opposing  batteries,  and  for 
two  long  hours  the  din  was  incessant,  the  flash- 
ing guns  and  bursting  shells  making  a  pyrotech- 
nical  display  wondrously  terrible  but  fascinat- 
ing to  the  gaze. 

As  the  men  lay  closely  hugging  the  inside  of 
the  ditch  while  all  this  grand  display  was  going 
on  over  their  heads,  no  one  had  noticed  the 
stillness  of  Randolph  as  he  lay  upon  the  ground, 
but  his  nearest  file  thought  that  by  the  peculiar 
position  of  his  arms  and  body  that  it  was  not 
natural  for  one  uninjured,  and  shaking  him,  he 
got  no  response;  then  it  is  found  that  he  is 
badly  wounded  and  insensible. 

The  two  hours  of  steady  firing  gradually  ta- 
pers off  to  a  single  gun  away  down  by  Pocahon- 
tas Bridge  (or  where  it  was),  and  finally  it,  too, 


Captain  Randolph    Wounded.      .     .   141 

ceases,  and  only  the  "pop!  pop!  "'  and  never- 
ending  'night  picket  firing  is  heard. 

At  that  darkest  hour,  just  before  dawn,  four 
men  carrying  the  litter  on  which  lies  now  our 
wounded  Captain,  are  hurrying  with  noiseless 
steps  by  the  very  route  by  which  they  had 
tramped  so  hopefully  but  a  few  hours  before. 

Upon  examination  it  is  discovered  that  the 
wounds,  while  painful,  are  not  of  a  serious  nat- 
ure, and  after  the  patient  and  skilful  services 
of  the  regimental  surgeon,  our  hero  is  left  to  his 
nurse  and  gentle  slumber. 

Soon  in  a  condition  to  be  moved,  Randolph 
remembers  the  abiding  place  of  Marguerite,  and 
who  could  better  play  the  part  of  physician  and 
nurse  than  she?  And  would  not  the  Confed- 
eracy have  one  less  mouth  to  fill!  Such  plead- 
ing with  the  gentle  and  kind-hearted  surgeon 
secured  for  Randolph  a  pass  and  transportation 
to  Columbia,  South  Carolina. 

In  the  latter  days  of  the  Confederacy,  in  those 
days  of  wheezy,  overworked  engines  and  rickety 
cars,  who  could  portray  the  discomfort,  the  filth 
and  terrible  trials  of  a  wounded  man,  jostled, 
side-tracked;  in  one  hour  hot,  the  next  freezing 
cold ;  wretched,  starved,  and  burning  with  fever 
and  thirst! 

The  memory  of  that  trip  clings  like  a  night- 
mare, &nd  whose  recollection  is  brightened  only 


142  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

by  one  incident.  Falling  into  a  doze,  and  upon 
opening  his  eyes  at  some  point  between  £)anville 
and  Charlotte,  Randolph  was  surprised  to  see 
the  sweet  face  of  an  elderly  lady  bending  over 
him,  smiling  with  a  cheerfulness  refreshing  to  a 
man  in  his  depressed  state  of  mind  and  body. 

"You  have  been  sleeping,"  says  she;  "I  hope 
that  it  has  been  a  refreshing  sleep. 

Buoyed  by  the  look,  the  voice,  and  the  good 
old  face  peering  out  of  the  curtains  of  one  of 
those  old-fashioned  "sun-bonnets,"  sacred  in 
the  memory  of  our  childhood  days,  he  answers : 
"Yes,  I  feel  much  better,  but  I  cannot  under- 
stand why  our  engineer  wants  to  jerk  the  life 
out  of  us,  or  break  his  couplings,  every  time 
that  he  starts  to  move." 

With  the  same  sweet,  winning  smile,  she  an- 
swers: "You  are  speaking  from  the  effects  of 
the  jerks  upon  an  empty  stomach,  and  as  I 
have  a  basket  expressly  for  sick  and  wounded 
Confederate  soldiers,  I  make  it  my  daily  business 
to  travel  up  and  down  this  road,  a  volunteer, 
for  the  special  service  of  finding  such  as  you." 

And  suiting  the  action  to  her  speech,  she 
beckons  her  waiter  and  regales  our  hero  with 
viands  to  which  he  has  long  been  a  stranger, 
and  which  in  long  years  after  he  gratefully  re- 
members. 

Perhaps  this  will  recall   to    many  a  grateful 


That  Good  Old- Lady.  143 

heart  that  good  old  lady,  the  ministering  angel 
of  comfort,  whose  kind  words  and  gentle  touch 
had  soothed  so  many  suffering  soldiers,  and 
whose  well-filled  basket  brought  cheer  and  hap- 
piness to  many  a  wan  and  hungry  Confederate. 
Changing  cars  at  Branchville,  South  Carolina, 
but  a  few  hours'  run  brought  him  safely  to 
Columbia,  where  our  hero  is  met  by  the  blush- 
ing and  happy  Marguerite,  who  waves  on  high 
in  exultation  the  Chief  Surgeon's  permit  to 
quarter  him  at  the  home  of  her  he  loved  so  well. 


144  From    Dust  to  Ashes. 


Chapter  XII. 

From  Petersburg  to  Columbia — Oh!  what  a 
contrast!  At  the  one,  strife  and  bloodshed,  the 
rattle  of  small  arms  and  the  thunder  of  the  big 
guns ;  pale  want  and  grim  desolation  stares  all 
with  the  grimace  of  an  insatiate  demon.  At  the 
other  is  music  and  the  dance ;  gaily  attired  ladies 
and  well  dressed  gentlemen,  sprinkled  but  too 
frequently  with  gold-laced  officers,  parade  the 
streets. 

Worn  with  fatigue,  and  still  suffering  from 
his  wounds,  Randolph  retires  early,  but  not  to 
sleep ;  thoughts  come  and  go  like  lighting-flashes 
through  his  fevered  mind.  The  transition  has 
been  too  sudden,  and  all  seems  too  unreal.  Xow, 
forgetful  of  his  situation  he  listens  for  the  in- 
cessant picket  firing;  but  no,  there  is  the  sweet 
Toice  of  some  fair  daughter  of  Carolina  trilling 
the  plaintive  melody  of  II  Trovatore,  '"Ah.  I've 
sighed  to  rest  me." 

Randolph  thinks,  too,  of  the  gallant  few  of 
over-worked,  ill-fed  and  long-suffering  soldiers, 
who  uncomplainingly  shiver  in  their  trenches — 
dying,  and  ready  to  die  in  defending  1  heir  work. 

Wearied   nature  at  last  ;isserts  her  rights,  and 


Only  a  Bream.  145 

lie  sleeps  that  sleep  which  comes  with  change  of 
place  and  new  surroundings,  deep,  but  full  of 
the  grotesque  imagery  of  a  disordered  mind. 
While  dreaming  that  he  was  leading  a  train  of 
cars  to  capture  Marguerite,  who  was  being  taken 
away  by  the  Yankees,  he  was  unhorsed  by  a 
woman  with  a  basket,  who.  with  her  threatening 
carving-knife  awakened  him  with  a  sudden 
start,  to  find  that  he  had  slept  till  9  o'clock 
a.  m.,  and  that  the  sun  was  brightly  shining 
outside  of  the  drawn  curtains. 

There  was  no  disposition  to  arise,  but  rather 
the  reverse,  and  with  a  dull  pain  in  every  joint 
and  each  wound,  a  racking  headache,  he  rather 
wished  for  the  early  arrival  of  some  Grood 
Samaritan. 

Not  long  does  he  wait,  for  a  gentle  knock  is 
quickly  answered  by  the  expected  "  Come,"  and 
a  servant  enters,  who  is  directed  to  call  for 
medical  aid.  This  has  the  effect  of  bringing  the 
host  and  hostess,  the  parents  of  Marguerite, 
quickly  to  his  bedside,  who,  in  a  short  time,  are 
followed  by  Surgeon  Fisher,  who,  with  the  de- 
liberation of  one  who  has  seen  service  in  the 
field,  looks  at  the  patient,  smilingly  asks  how 
he  feels,  remarks  on  the  pretty  morning,  and  is 
all  the  time  removing  his  overcoat,  and  then  is 
— mum. 

With  tender  and    skilful  hands   the   wounds 


146  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

are  unbandaged,  and  then  it  is  discovered  that 
much  has  gone  wrong  during  the  three  days  of 
inattention  during  travel. 

Suffice  it  to  sav  that  with  the  severity  of  the 
operation,  the  depleted  state  of  the  body  of  the 
patient,  and  the  high  and  almost  ungovernable 
fever  which  held  him  in  its  fast  embrace,  the 
good  old  surgeon  had  a  hard  fight,  and  the 
patient  a  close  shave  for  life. 

On  the  seventh  day  Randolph  opens  his  eyes 
upon  a  scene  never  to  be  forgotten.  Sitting 
close  to  his  bedside  was  Marguerite,  her  elbow 
resting  upon  a  chair,  holding  her  cheek  in  the 
palm  of  her  hand,  fast  asleep.  Her  face  was 
turned  to  him ;  evidently  she  had  fallen  asleep 
while  intently  watching  him.  What  a  wealth 
of  happiness  to  him  to  gaze,  and  to  watch  un- 
molested that  face  he  loved  so  well.  He  could 
almost  feel  her  breath  upon  his  cheek ;  still  she 
slept  and  still  he  gazed ;  and,  as  if  warned  by 
some  subtle  agency,  she  opened  her  eyes  to  meet 
his  own,  exchanging  a  look  of  happy  surprise. 

"  Well,  sweetheart,  I  have  watched  over  you 
while  you  slept,  have  proved  myself  a  true  sen- 
tinel, and  now  won't  you  reward  me  for  my 
services  with  just  one  sweet  kiss?"  Thus 
speaks  the  sick  man. 

Without  any  shrinking  prudery,  she  answers: 
11  Indeed  I  will,  my  brave  knight,"  and  kissing 


In   Columbia,  S.   C.  147 

him,  and  again  for  good  luck,  she  pauses  to 
ask:     "  Do  yon  not  feel  much  better,   dear?" 

He  answers:  "  Ever  so  much  better;  I  feel 
like  a  new  man — wonderfully  refreshed;  rest  of 
body  and  mind  was  what  I  wanted.  Tell  me, 
darling,  how  long  have  I  slept!" 

"Never  mind  about  your  time  of  sleeping," 
says  Marguerite.  "Keep  quiet  now,  like  a  good 
boy,  while  I  go  and  send  the  glad  tidings  to 
Doctor  Fisher,"  who  soon  arrives  and  makes 
all  happy  by  announcing  all  bad  symptoms 
passed  and  predicting  a  rapid  convalescence. 

At  the  end  .of  three  weeks  Marguerite  prevails 
upon  the  good  old  folks  to  invite  company  to 
meet  the  Captain,  their  guest,  at  their  house, 
which  is  granted  with  some  gruntings,  provisos 
and  much  ominous  shakings  of  the  head  at  the 
possibility  of  supplying  the  comforts  for  the 
inner  man. 

Marguerite  answers,  that  they  '■  would  make 
it  up  by  giving  them  a  taste  of  Old  Virginia 
hospitality,  and  as  most  of  the  people  were 
South  Carolinians,  that  they  would  be  content 
with  rice." 

The  eventful  evening  came  at .  last,  and  with 

it  to  the  hospitable  mansion  of  Captain  D , 

the  elite  of  Columbia.  Beauty,  grace  and  ele- 
gance of  manner  made  up  for  the  lack  of  gor- 
geous costumes,  and  wit,  music  and  the  dance 


148  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

went  merrily  on  until  the  wee  small  hours  anent 
the  twal. 

But  not  entirely  recovered  from  his  hard 
wrestle  for  recovery,  Randolph,  with  Marguerite 
leaning  upon  his  arm,  saunters  into  the  sanctum 
sanctorum  of  the  Pater,  who  calls  it  his  study, 
where  his  most  studious  efforts  are  directed  in 
the  extraction  of  as  much  enjoyment  as  possible 
from  a  fine  old  meerschaum,  now  grown  a  beau- 
tiful thing  of  colors.  Thither  also,  the  older 
members  of  the  throng  masculine  had  come 
for  a  friendly  chat  and  a  smoke. 

Upon  entering,  a  venerable  gentleman  arose, 
and  with  the  courtesy  of  the  chivalrous  of 
bygone  days,  politely  asks  if  smoking  is  offen- 
sive. 

Marguerite  answers,  k'  Not  at  all;  do  continue 
smoking.  I  am  accustomed  to  the  smoke  of 
tobacco,  good  tobacco,  at  least,  and  my  father 
is  too  good  a  judge  to  offer  you  anything  bad." 

Continuing,  the  old  gentleman,  who  proved  to 
be  an  attorney  and  resident  of  the  City  of 
Charleston,  says:  "I  am  delighted  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  your  company  Miss  Marguerite,  and 
quite  as  much  so  to  see  Captain  Randolph,  to 
whom  I  extend  my  hearty  congratulations  for 
his  safe  delivery  from  all  his  trials." 

Randolph  gracefully  acknowledges  the  com- 
pliment, and  adds  that  he  will  soon  be  able  to 


Sherman's  March  to  the  Sea.  149 

return  to  his  command ;  that  Lee  can  spare  not 
a  man;  or,  "mayhap,  I  maybe  needed  here,  as 
Sherman  is  turned  loose  without  opposition." 

A  Colonel  Stout,  of  militia  fame,  remarks: 
"I  notice  that  the  march  to  Atlanta  by  Sher- 
man is  wn  fait  accompli,  and  now  that  Hood  is 
away  up  north,  may  not  this  man  with  his  im- 
mense army  take  it  into  his  head  to  march  east 
and  then  northwardly,  and  lay  waste  the 
country?" 

This  suggestion  or  question  creates  a  diversity 
of  opinion,  some  asserting  that  Sherman  would 
have  to  move  back  to  look  after  Hood,  which 
was  Mr.  Davis'  idea,  when  he  sent  a  soldier  to 
replace  Joe  Johnston,  who  would  strike  a 
"  manly  blow,"  and  who  struck  it  at  Franklin. 

But  old  Gleneral  Marcellus  Brown  here  inter- 
posed his  opinion:  u  No,  sir;  no,  sir;  Sher- 
man will  come  right  on.  He's  got  skilled  engi- 
neers and  constructors  who  will  build  roads 
faster  than  we  can  destroy  them,  and  thousands 
of  our  negroes  will  assist  them;  and  who  can 
pilot  them  better  than  the  black  rascals,  who 
know  every  foot-path." 

Col.  Stout  ventilates  his  patriotic  estimation 
of  the  "  sacred  soil  of  Carolina,"  and  cannot 
bring  his  mind  to  consider  the  possibility  of  its 
profanation  by  the  incendiary  bummers  of 
Sherman's  army. 


150  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

Seated,  conspicuously  in  the  midst  of  the  group 
is  an  officer  of  the  Confederate  army,  whose 
bright  and  unsoiled  uniform,  fair  face  and 
immaculate  linen,  are  proofs  positive  against 
any  charge  of  contact  with  war's  rude  bufferings; 
but  bolstered  by  the  kinsmanship  of  a  power 
near  the  throne,  usurps  the  place  of  men  more 
deserving  and  better  fitted  for  the  duties  incum- 
bent upon  him.  Clearing  his  throat  and  waving 
out  his  dexter  hand,  he  parades  his  views  as  fol- 
lows: "At  headquarters,  I  find  a  general  dis- 
belief of  any  foolhardy  invasion  of  our  country ; 
we  are  entirely  too  far  in  the  interior.  I  recently 
had  the  pleasure  of  a  stroll  with  a  visitor,  or  rather 
a  refugee  from  Chattanooga,  who  gave  Sherman 
but  poor  credit  as  a  leader,  and  his  army  as 
merely  a  disorganized  mob  of  bummers.  He 
was  highly  pleased  at  the  disposition  of  our 
means  of  defense,  as  well  as  of  our  forces;  all 
of  which  I  took  the  trouble  to  show  and  explain 
to  him,  and  er — er —  by-the-by  "  (with  the  most 
insinuating  smile  at  having  done  so  much  for 
his  friend )  ' '  he  spoke  of  you  most  kindly,  Cap- 
tain Randolph,  and  said  that  you  would  be  glad 
to  hear  from  him,  and  made  me  the  bearer  of 
his  greetings  and  best  wishes  for  your  welfare 
and  success." 

"  I  did  not  understand  the  name,"  remarks 
Randolph. 


Randolph  Heats  of  Van  Horton.         151 

"  Horton — Oh!  yes,  Van  Horton,  of  Chatta- 
nooga," answers  the  Adjutant. 

11  Allow  me  then  to  say,  Adjutant,"  answers 
Randolph,  whose  flashing  eyes  and  contracted 
brows  gave  evidence  of  the  awakening  of  the 
lion  in  the  man,  "  that  your  news  is  as  disagree- 
able as  it  is  unexpected,  and  that  your  protege 
is  an  unrelenting  enemy  to  our  country;  a 
robber  by  taste  and  profession,  false  to  you  as 
he  was  false  to  his  own  family.  Your  acts  of 
courtesy  and  hospitality  were  simply  wasted  upon 
a  spy." 

Picture  if  you  can,  the  surprise  and  mortifica- 
tion of  Adjutant  Post,  upon  hearing  the  dread- 
ful news.  Embarrassed  and  confounded,  the 
holiday  soldier  leaves  at  the  earliest  opportunity, 
and  his  absence  enables  the  older  heads  to 
ventilate  their  various  disgusts  of  the  recipient 
of  his  knowledge  of  military  facts. 

To  Marguerite  it  was  nothing  less  than  a 
severe  physical  shock.  u  Van  Horton  here!" 
the  bete  voir  of  the  circle  of  friends  in  whose 
safety  and  happiness  her  whole  soul  was  con- 
centrated. With  a  woman's  watchful  care  of 
the  invalid  one.  Marguerite  proposes  to  return 
to  the  parlors,  but  her  voice  falls  upon  deaf  ears, 
and  until  her  request  is  repeated,  Randolph 
arousing  from  his  abstraction,  apologizes  for  his 
inattention  and  escorts  her  to  her  guests. 


152  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

The  handsome  couple  had  hardly  left  the 
room  before  old  General  Marcellus  Brown,  with 
a  thump  upon  the  table  to  emphasize  what  he 
says:  "  That  young  man,  Randolph,  just  suits 
me;  says  little,  and  that  little  he  says  well;  sun- 
burned and  scarred,  he  is  the  beau  ideal  of  a 
soldier.  Did  you  see  him  look  at  that  pudding- 
head  Post  \  He  looked  more  like  an  awe-ning 
post  when  he  left  us." 

"Oh,  yes,"  says  the  host;  "the  men  who 
have  trotted  with  Jackson  and  Lee  over  the 
hills  and  vales  of  Virginia  looking  for  fights, 
finding  and  winning  them  without  counting  the 
odds,  are  of  just  such  stock.  Now  I,  for  one, 
am  a  believer  in  stock.  I  have  fine  stock  at 
home,  or  did  have  until  I  gave  them  up  to  our 
government:  and  let  me  tell  you,  that  careful 
breeding,  training  and  handling  are  as  essen- 
tially necessary  to  man  as  to  the  horse  or  other 
animal,  and  my  opinion  is  that  Post  would  have 
to  be  born  again  to  be  able  to  touch  elbows  with 
our  invalid." 

General  Brown,  laughing  merrily,  says :  "Abe 
Lincoln  has  set  an  example  as  a  high  breeder. 
With  a  single  dash  of  the  pen  he  has  created 
men,  free  men;  voters  without  an  idea  of  gov- 
ernment; jurymen  without  judgment;  ignorant, 
superstitious,  and  but  a  generation  removed  from 
barbarism  and  cannibalism — all  this  with  a  dash 


The  Everlasting  Negro.  153 

of  the  pen,  which  it  took  our  fathers  centuries 
of  patient  struggle,  study  and  privation  to 
secure  and  to  be  qualified  to  maintain.  Be  it 
distinctly  understood,  gentlemen,"  he  goes  on, 
11  that  I  am  not  a  lover  of  the  institution  of 
slavery  in  the  abstract,  and  recognize  the  love 
of  liberty  which  is  implanted  in  the  breast  of 
every  living  thing;  yet  this  wholesale  delivery, 
this  invitation  to  insurrection,  murder  and 
arson,  if  not  directly  expressed,  indirectly  sug- 
gested, burdens  my  mind  with  the  belief  that  it 
is  the  offspring  of  a  cowardly  brain,  or  a  saving 
expedient  in  a  waning  cause." 

Our  host,  catching  the  infection,  takes  up  the 
subject  as  follows: 

"Dropping  the  question  of  breeding,  I  have 
read  much  and  studied  the  everlasting  negro,  till 
I  am  more  convinced  of  his  thorough  unfitness 
to  occupy  the  position  now  designated  for  him 
by  the  Lincoln  proclamation ;  an  act  of  usurpa- 
tion and  vindictiveness ;  'the  very  quintescence 
of  malice,  hatred  and  all  uncharitableness.  Gro 
back  in  history,  yes,  even  to  the  days  of  Pharaoh, 
and  we  find  him  then  what  he  is  now.  For 
four  thousand  years  he  has  held  undisputed 
possession  of  a  continent,  yet  he  has  never  made 
a  law;  the  whole  race  is  guiltless  of  the  creation 
of  any  work  of  art,  a  statue,  a  painting,  or  a 
monument.     With  the  wisdom,  science  and  ex- 


154  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

ample  of  every  nation  beaming  upon  them,  it 
has  never  penetrated  their  benighted  haunts,  nor 
conquered  their  invincible  ignorance.  He  is, 
gentlemen,  both  morally  and  physically,  a  mys- 
terious subject  of  Gi-od's  unrelenting  judgment, 
incomprehensible  as  it  is  positive.  In  all  past 
time  he  has  been  a  servant,  a  menial,  and  Abe 
Lincoln  and  every  other  Lincoln  on  earth  can 
with  all  the  appliances  of  law,  philanthropy  and 
proclamation,  only  find  him  the  same,  either  a 
barber  or  in  barbarism." 

Having  devoted  this  quantum  of  breath  as  a 
kick  and  protest  at  old  Abe's  arbitrary  move, 
our  host  moves  an  adjournment  to  the  society  of 
the  ladies,  and  here  they  are  met  with  news 
which  blanches  the  cheek  of  old  and  }Toung 
alike;  it  is  the  announcement  that  Savannah 
had  fallen,  and  that  Sherman,  with  an  immense 
army,  having  plundered  all  the  helpless  old 
women  and  children  in  a  march  through  a  thinly 
settled  country,  with  no  opposing  army,  had 
formed  a  junction  with  the  Federal  fleet  off  that 
harbor,  and  had  simply  crowded  out  General 
Hardee  with  his  few  Confederate  regiments. 

This  wondrous  achievement  over  hen-roosts 
and  helpless  barnyards  is  yclept,  after  the  maud- 
lin sentimentality  of  a  fawning  press,  "Sher- 
man's March  to  the  Sea,"  and  which  affords  a 
vent  for  patriotic  Yankee  schoolmarms  by  con- 


'Randolph  Breams.  155 

% 

tributing  that  operatic  homily  for  school  and 
church  festivals  entitled,  "Marching  Thro', 
Georgy." 

The  entertainment  in  honor  of  our  hero,  was 
a  perfect  success  as  a  social  gathering,  Randolph 
meeting  with  many  old  friends  among  the  ladies 
and  among  the  cripples  now  occupying  places  re- 
quiring only  easy  service.  But  between  the  un- 
pleasant introduction  of  Van  Horton's  name  by 
Adjutant  Post,  and  the  news  of  the  capture  of 
Savannah,  our  hero  retired,  wondering  "what 
would  happen  next?"  but  soon  fell  asleep  to 
dream  of  "that  fool,  Post,"  verifying  the  truth 
of  the  adage,  that  we  dream  of  that  which  is  last 
upon  the  mind  before  sleeping. 


156  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 


Chaptek  XIII. 

Right  well  did  the  gentleman  from  Chattanooga, 
the  ''so-called"  refugee  Van  Horton,  accomplish 
his  mission.  Relying  upon  his  knowledge  of  the 
generous  and  unsuspicious  hospitality  of  the 
Southern  people,  he  found  it  no  difficult  matter 
to  return  directly  to  the  advancing  Yankee  army, 
which  he  overtook  just  before  its  capture  of 
Savannah. 

His  mission  had  been  crowned  with  success, 
and  his  heart  fairly  leaped  with  joy  at  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  solid  reward  which  would  inure  to 
his  credit  for  so  meritorious  a  service  in  behalf 
of  his  commander. 

Following  him  to  his  quarters,  we  find  a  merry 
crowd  assembled  under  the  shadow  of  a  large 
"fly"  which  was  raised  in  front  of  the  tent,  and 
served  the  purpose  of  mess-room,  being  supplied 
with  camp-table  and  chairs. 

The  tent  was  pitched  under  a  lovely  old  "live 
oak,"  whose  garment  of  long,  sweeping  moss 
waved  gently  in  the  passing  breeze. 

Having  just  arrived  after  a  long  and  danger- 
ous trip,  and  an  almost  equally  fatiguing  search 
for  his  quarters,  Van  Horton,  after  dismounting, 


Vom  Morton's  Mission  Done.  157 

threw  the  rein  in  a  careless  manner  to  a  negro 
boy,  one  of  the  many  thousand  following  in  the 
wake  of  Sherman's  army,  and  bidding  him  to 
rub  well,  water  and  feed,  dismissed  all  other 
considerations  of  horse  or  negro,  and  joins  the 
mess,  where  he  is  received  with  many  hand- 
shakes, many  questions,  with  heavy  slaps  upon 
the  shoulder,  and  last  but  not  least,  a  pressing 
injunction  to  ''drink,  old  fellow,  it'll  do  you 
good. ' ' 

"  Say,  fellows,  what  in  the  deuce  could  influ- 
ence an  officer  of  the  rank  of  colonel  to  take  the 
chances  of  VanHorton's  ride,  unless  there  was  a 
woman  in  the  case!"  Thus  speaks  one  Lieu- 
tenant Peters. 

"  Oh,  bosh!  I  can  measure  a  man  better  than 
that,"  says  Captain  Burke,  "for  Van  don't 
smile,  and  grin,  and  dawdle  around.  Look  at 
him  now.  Don't  you  see  confidence  in  his  face? 
He  is  plump  full  of  valuable  information.  Now 
catch  on,  and  see  if  I  am  not  right." 

"  Never  mind  a  leetle  about  drawing  dose 
conclusions,  shentlemens,"  says  Captain  Grlas- 
sick,  a  jolly  fat  German  with  a  jolly  red  nose; 
"youst  eferybody  fill  up,  undt  let's  drink  a 
bumper  to  the  arrival  in  der  fold  of  our  long 
lost  sheeps,"  (and  with  military  precision  every 
glass  is  drained),  and  still  standing,  the  rubi- 
cund German  says:      "Stand   steady,    shentle- 


158  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

raans;  undt  come  here,  you  black  rascal,  and 
make  fill  dose  glasses;"  and  continuing,  he 
says:  "Dot  poy  makes  homesick  mineself,  for 
when  he's  aroundt  I  have  dot  odor  of  dose 
limberger  mitoudt  de  beer,  undt  so  I  was  all 
broke  oudt.  Now,  shentlemans,  I  gifs  a  dost  to 
dot  fair  lady  I  was  entertaining  yesterday  and  to 
the  gallant  officer  she  was  looking  for." 

With  a  clatter  of  glasses,  a  smacking  of  lips 
and  many  ejaculations,  of  "  Oh !  "  l '  Oh !  "  "  Oh !  " 
the  rotund  Dutchman  subsided,  puffed  up  with 
the  vanity  of  the  possession  of  knowledge  un- 
known to  his  comrades,  and  the  anxiety  to  own 
the  possession  whereof  would  make  him  the 
center  of  a  fire  of  inquiries,  direct,  plunging 
and  cross,  as  to  who  she  was,  who  she  was 
looking  for,  etc. 

While  all  was  eagerness,  their  senses  already 
inflamed  by  the  liquor  consumed,  there  was  one 
who  made  no  effort  to  find  out  by  inquiry,  for 
his  mind  was  too  intent  upon  the  eager  inward 
discussion  as  to  "which  one"  it  could  be. 

The  phlegmatic  Teuton  smoked  his  pipe  and 
smiled  calmly  at  the  wrangle,  but  never  turned 
his  gaze  once  upon  Van  Horton  to  signify  that 
probably  that  it  was  he  for  whom  the  search  was 
directed. 

In  an  instant  the  babel  of  voices  is 
hushed,  for, at   a   short   distance  from  cam})  is 


Miss  F Appears.  159 

discerned  a  lady  rapidly  approaching,  sitting 
her  horse  with  ease  and  grace,  a  jaunty  little 
jockey-cap  decorating  her  head,  and  long,  dark 
green  riding-skirt  streaming  in  the  wind,  as  her 
dashing  sorrel  sweeps  along  with  light,  springing 
strides. 

Every  man  stops  still ;  every  one  looks  at  one 
object.  None  know  the  coming  equestrienne  but 
one,  and  he,  Van  Horton,  rising  hurriedly, 
advances  to  meet  her;  courteously  he  salutes 
her,  and  leading  her  horse  conducts  the  visitor 
to   the    "fly,"    and    ceremoniously  introduces 

Miss  F as  a  vision  of  loyalty  to  the  flag  of 

the  Union. 

This   is  followed  by  more  wine,  and  we  are 

sorry  to  confess  is  participated  in  by  Miss  F , 

who,  possessed  of  every  other  attribute  to  make 
a  fast  woman,  finds  no  trouble  to  add  a  decided 
taste  for  exhilerating  drinks.  In  her  most  win- 
ning manner  Miss  F ,  addressing  Van  Horton, 

asks:  "Tell  us  what  you  have  done,  and  what 
you  know,  for  we  are  dying  to  hear." 

"You  will  hear  soon  euough,"  answers  Van 
Horton,  "and  headquarters  shall  be  the  first  to 
hear-,  and  as  we  have  had  our  little  recreation 
here,  and  you  are  well  prepared,  I  will  order  my 
horse,  ride  over  and  report." 

The  Commander-in-Chief  received  Van  Horton 
with  expressions  of    marked  gratification,   and 


160  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

with  closed  doors  his  report  was  taken  in  detail. 
And  as  the  weakness  of  resistance;  the  utter 
absence  of  men  and  means  of  defense ;  the  un- 
protected homesteads,  easy  subjects  for  rapine 
and  plunder,  because  occupied  only  by  the  help- 
less of  both  sexes,  was  shown  in  detail  of  the 
route  northward  via  Columbia,  Sherman's  joy 
was  boundless,  and  Van  Horton  was  dismissed 
with  words  of  gratitude  and  promises,  which 
filled  his  breast  with  happy  and  buoyant  hopes. 
And  from  this  moment  begins  the  preparation 
for  a  movement  which  is  to  be  quick  and  deci- 
sive. Within  three  days  the  whole  army  was 
under  arms,  and,  crossing  the  Savannah  river, 
moved  northwardly  in  the  direction  of  Columbia, 
the  capital  of  the  State  of  South  Carolina. 


Wonderful  Nature.  161 


Chaptee  XIV. 

How  wonderful  are  the  powers  of  nature;  in 
number  without  limit,  in  active  operation  in 
every  phase  of  existence,  animate  and  inanimate. 
One  of  the  most  intricate  powers  of  nature  is 
the  mind  of  man.  It  is  a  store-house  from 
which  is  drawn  all  that  goes  to  make  the  wealth 
and  happiness  of  the  world,  or  that  which  brings 
ruin  and  despair  to  infinite  numbers.  While  it 
makes  the  law,  it  breaks  it  and  defies  it.  It  de- 
fines the  right,  and  is  quick  to  aid  the  wrong. 
It  is  a  worker  of  miracles.  It  has  taught  us  to 
ride  upon  the  winds;  to  whisper  in  the  ear  of 
our  friends  an  hundred  miles  away;  to  write  with 
the  lightning's  flash,  and  even  to  control  the 
mind  of  others;  but  there  is  one  power  which, 
if  ever  given,  is  evidently  lost — that  of  controll- 
ing ones  own  mind. 

Thus  it  was  with  Randolph ;  sleeping  or  wak- 
ing, his  mind  would  dwell  upon  Van  Horton's 
visit  to  Columbia.  "What  was  he  there  for? 
Was  he  shadowing  his  movements,  and  was  he, 
too,  included  in  his  scheme  for  vengeance,  be- 
cause of  his  kinship!  or  was  he  simply  a  spy, 
and  Post  the  dupe  of  his  machinations?" 


162  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 

Such  was  the  state  of  his  mind,  that,  coupled 
with  his  physical  weakness,  the  hope  of  a  speedy 
return  to  camp  seemed  to  diminish,  and  his 
future  to  assume  the  form  of  a  settled  gloom. 

This  gloom  had  no  silver  lining,  the  smiles 
and  happy  presence  of  the  lovely  Marguerite, 
now  dimly  seen,  seemed  not  able  to  dispel  the 
leaden  shadow. 

It  was  a  bright,  sunny  day,  although  it  was 
crisp  and  cold  out  of  doors ;  the  family  had  par- 
taken of  a  late  dinner,  and  a  bright,  cheerful 
fire  of  wood  burned  upon  the  hearth  of  the  par- 
lor; and  as  Marguerite  sat  in  a  cosey  arm-chair 
near  the  sofa,  where  Randolph  reclined  in  a 
musing,  pensive  manner,  so  occupied  was  he  in 
his  own  thoughts,  which  were  none  of  the 
brightest,  that  the  look  of  intense  solicitude 
which  was  fixed  upon  him  by  Marguerite  was 
entirely  unnoticed,  until  Marguerite,  remarking 
an  ugly  frown  upon  Randolph's  face,  accom- 
panied by  a  motion  of  the  lips  and  an  upraised 
arm  with  a  clenched  hand,  abruptly  broke  the 
the  silence  by  asking:  "Kind  sir,  are  you  quar- 
reling with  me,  or  am  I  to  be  the  sole  audience 
to  your  pantomimic  program?" 

Roused  from  his  revery,  Randolph  answers  as 
if  awakened  from  a  dream:  tlMille  pardons, 
mctmselle!  I  was  ruminating,  reviewing  my 
troubles.     Between  my  impotence,  loss  of  kin, 


"A  Lovers'   Quarrel"  163 

friends,  home,  the  curse  of  Van  Horton,  the 
vindietiveness  of  Miss  F — ,  and  last  but  not 
least,  my  separation  from  my  command,  I  feel  as 
if  I  was  undergoing  the  agony  of  being  drowned 
in  a  sea  of  troubles." 

"Then  my  company  goes  for  naught,"  says 
she..  "Who  nursed  you  back  to  life,  0,  base 
ingratef" 

Upon  his  essaying  to  speak,  smilingly,  she 
shakes  her  finger  at  him  and  bids  him  to  "repent 
and  say  something  nice  and  pretty,  something 
penetential,  to  show  at  least  that  the  sense  of 
gratitude  is  not  entirely  dead  within  you." 

"My  dear,  I  plead  guilty  to  any  charge  of 
poverty  of  language  to  express,  and  my  inability 
to  repay  you  for  your  unselfish  and  untiring 
efforts  in  my  behalf  when  so  ill.  May  Heaven 
bless  you,  sweet  one;  but  ungrateful — never! 
We  have  never  had  what  others  so  often  seem  to 
crave,  'a  lovers'  quarrel,'  and  with  God's  help 
we  never  shall ;  but  you  must  bear  now  with  my 
depression,  for  I  have  for  several  days  felt  a 
sense  of  impending  danger,  an  incubus  of 
trouble,  which  I  cannot  account  for,  nor  can  I 
throw  it  aside." 

"It  is  perfectly  natural  for  morbid  ideas  to 
pervade  the  mind,  when  sickness  seizes  the 
body ;  or,  perhaps,  you  may  find  some  relief  by 
piling  the  blame  upon  that  poor,  patient,  and 


164  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

long-suffering  member — the  liver!"  answers 
Marguerite. 

"No,"  answers  Randolph,  "my  thoughts  do 
not  seem  the  offshoot  of  anything  morbid,  nor 
even  the  result  of  a  torpid  liver;  it  is,  or  will  be, 
all,  I  fear,  but  too  real;   and  now  please" 

There  is  a  pause,  for  there  came  a  loud  ringing 
of  the  front  door-bell,  which  cut  short  any  further 
conversation,  and  in  a  few  moments  a  servant 
annouced  a  lady,  much  to  the  surprise  of  both. 

Marguerite  saw  before  her  timidly  advancing, 
a  woman  of  lithesome  figure,  with  hair,  eyes 
and  complexion  filling  all  the  requisites  of  ;i 
pronounced  blonde;  whose  carriage  betokened 
a  courage  begotten  of  pride  and  right,  but 
whose  sombre  dress  and  wan  and  troubled  ex- 
pression appealed  at  once  to  the  heart  for  aid, 
comfort  and  protection. 

Being  seated,  she  handed  Marguerite  a  note, 
remarking  as  she  did  so  that  she  was  happy  and 
grateful  to  be  the  bearer  of  a  missive  from  a  dear 
friend,  Miss  Sadie  Carday,  now  visiting  at 
Washington,  D.  C,  who  so  kindly  volunteered 
to  introduce  herself,  who  was  en  route  south  in 
search  of  her  husband,  now  Colonel  Van  Horton, 
of  the  United  States  Army. 

Here  was  a  revelation,  and  with  Randolph, 
adding  another  stigma  to  the  already  stigmatized 
Van  Horton. 


A  Letter  From  Sadie.  165 

An  expert  mind  reader  would  have  found  a 
task  of  extraordinary  application,  or  perhaps 
would  have  been  paralyzed  at  the  expressions  of 
amazement,  sorrow,  contempt  and  anger  which. 
pervaded  the  countenances  of  these  three  per- 
sons as  they  stood  for  a  moment  silently  gazing 
at  one  another. 

"Please  excuse  me,'7  remarks  Marguerite  in 
her  most  courteous  manner,  u  while  I  read 
Sadie's  letter,"  which  was  as  follows: 

Washington,  D.  C,  Jan.  15,  1865. 

My  Dear  Marguerite — This  will  be  handed  to  you  by 
Mrs.  Van  Horton  (really  Mrs.  A.  Van  Horton  Darke),  a 
native  of  England,  in  search  of  her  husband,  and  who 
deserves  all  your  sympathy  as  a  true  woman,  and  the  inno- 
cent sufferer  through  the  misdeeds  of  a  heartless  wretch. 

She  seeks  not  her  husband  to  regain  him,  but  for  a  pur- 
pose dearer  to  a  mother's  heart — to  secure  her  child,  taken 
from  her  in  England,  and  who  is  reported  to  be  with  Van 

H ,  or  near  him,  under  the  charge  of  a  Miss  F or 

Mrs.  Van  Horton.  Give  her  all  the  help  and  comfort  you 
can.  We  caught  up  with  Van  Horton  here,  but  when  we 
thought  we  had  him,  he  gave  us  the  slip. 

Nothing  in  this  contraband,  and  a  wounded  and  paroled 

prisoner  kindly  promised  to  see  Mrs.   Van  H through 

safely. 

Love  and  blessings. 

Affectionately, 

Sadie. 

The  elegance  of  manner,  together  with  the 
friendless  and  pitiful  condition  of  the  poor 
stranger,  was  an  impetus  to  each  to  suggest  the 


166  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 

best  and  surest  method  of  finding  the  wretched 
abductor. 

Randolph,  however,  with  a  soldier's  suspicion, 
asks:  "Why,  Madam,  did  you  not  go  direct  by 
the  Yankee  route,  as  by  following  it  you  can 
more  rapidly  accomplish  your  purpose?" 

With  fiery  energy,  she  answers:  "I  have  no 
sympathy  with  the  man  or  his  cause ;  I  desire 
only  to  meet,  not  to  follow  him." 

So  earnest  were  they,  that  it  was  late  when 
Mrs.  Van  Horton  (as  we  shall  call  her)  took  her 
leave,  promising  to  return  early  the  next  morn- 
ing and  endeavor  to  secure  passes  from  General 
Beauregard,  now  in  command,  and  proceed  to 
Savannah,  via  Augusta. 

The  next  morning  was  ushered  into  life  with  a 
sun  beaming  with  a  beauteous  luxuriousness  al- 
most preternatural,  and  as  the  rays  came  slant- 
ing in  its  first  efforts  to  kiss  the  tops  of  the 
leafless  trees,  and  warm  with  its  sunny  breath 
tlit-  frosts  of  night,  every  housetop  in  the  City  of 
Columbia  seemed  to  reflect  the  glory  of  the  god 
of  day. 

The  beautiful  city  awoke  to  life,  and,  in  the 
happy  sunshine,  the  citizens  engaged  in  their 
usual  routine  of  business — thought  not  of  mur- 
der, rapine  and  arson. 

It  was  about  3  o'clock  p.  m.,  of  the  15th  of 
February,  1865,  when  a  drooping,  hard-ridden 


A  Courier  Arrives.  167 

horse  came  slowly  over  the  old,  wooden  bridge, 
spanning  the  Congaree  river,  bearing  a  cavalry- 
man, dusty  and  weary.  A  frank,  handsome  face, 
heavily  moustached ;  broad  shouldered,  and  with 
an  old  slouch  hat  cocked  rakishly  upon  one  side, 
he  seemed  the  beau  ideal  of  a  man  to  trust  upon 
a  mission  where  danger  required  a  quick  eye,  a 
strong  arm,  and  plenty  of  nerve. 

The  rider  knew  his  horse,  for  he  was  a  part  of 
him.  The  poor,  dumb  brute  had  served  his 
master  well;  and,  best  of  all,  his  master  knew  it, 
and  loved  him  for  it ;  and  now,  having  passed 
the  bridge  and  climbed  the  ascent  to  the  railway, 
even  passing  the  old  freight-house,  soon  to  be 
blown  to  atoms,  our  wearied  horseman  straight- 
ened up  in  his  saddle,  his  animal  felt  the  move- 
ment, and,  quickly  responding,  hastened  his 
pace,  and  soon  he  is  at  the  door  of  the  Mcker- 
son,  where  G-eneral  Beauregard  had  established 
his  headquarters. 

Very  soon  it  transpires  that  this  man  has 
brought  the  message  that  Sherman,  with  his 
whole  army,  was  in  full  inarch  upon  the  helpless, 
undefended  city. 

The  news  was  soon  spread  throughout  the  city, 
and  many  refugees,  who  had  secured  homes 
here,  made  haste  again  to  decamp. 

Many  of  all  classes  determined  to  brave  it  out. 
Their  means  were  exhausted  by  the  war,  and 


168  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

they  had  no  place  to  retreat,  nor  means  of  sus- 
tenance if  they  did. 

Many  prepared  to  leave,  not  earing  to  trust  to 
the  tender  mercies  of  a  foe  who  had  plundered 
and  burned  a  path  through  the  unprotected 
homes  and  fields  of  helpless  old  men  and  inno- 
cent women. 

On  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Van  Horton,  she  found 
the  whole  house  in  confusion. 

Randolph  had  gone  to  the  front,  with  a  few 
government  clerks,  some  cavalry,  and  what  was 
termed  Home  Gruards  (for  the  sake  of  euphony), 
but  Marguerite  was  determined  to  stand  her 
ground,  and  Mrs.  Van  H.  was  equally  deter- 
mined to  cast  her  lot  with  her. 

A  widespread  gloom  settled  down  upon  the 
whole  city,  and  a  hopeless  resignation  seemed  to 
pervade  the  homes  of  all. 

To  those  who  had  counted  upon  the  magnan- 
imity of  the  foe — "Sleep  on;  sleep  for  a  little 
while ! ' ' — there  will  be  a  sad  awakening,  for 
there  comes  a  hero  (God  save  the  mark)  who 
has  declared  that  "Columbia  is  as  bad  as  Charles- 
ton," and  that  "Salt  would  hardly  be  necessary 
to  sow  upon  its  ruins." 

Oh,  brutal  man!  Is  this  the  reward  of  oneT 
trusted,  honored,  and  placed  in  the  highest  po- 
sition of  a  generous  and  unsuspecting  people! 
Nous  verrons. 


The  Enemy  Appears.  169 


Chaptek  XV. 

On  the  next  afternoon,  the  16th  day  of  Febru- 
ary, 1865,  looking  across  the  Congaree  river  to 
the  hills  about  a  mile  beyond,  there  came  borne 
upon  the  air  the  usual  prelude  of  an  advance, 
the  "pop!  pop!  pop!"  of  the  skirmish  line. 
The  evening  was  far  advanced  when  the  firing 
increased;  and  very  soon  could  be  seen  a  long, 
irregular  line  of  ununif  ormed  men  swaying  across 
an  old  field  between  two  lines  of  trees.  No 
flashing  battle-flags  to  cheer  the  heart  or  to  greet 
the  eye;  no  veterans  were  there,  only  hastily 
improvised  two-legged  obstacles,  which  only 
meant  delay. 

With  what  thoughts  did  each  one  regard  this 
panorama,  as  Marguerite  and  her  guest  watched 
the  exciting  but  hopeless  scene! 

Soon  darkness  settled  over  the  scene,  and 
with  burning  stores  and  cotton,  the  movement 
of  troops,  principally  cavalry,  the  sad  hearts  of 
the  populace  wore  out  a  sleepless  night,  but 
scarcely  realized  a  foretaste  of  the  dreadful  ex- 
perience in  store  for  them. 

The  next  day,  February  17th,  the  Federal 
troops  threw  their  shells  into  the  city,  and  with- 


170  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 

out  opposition,  marched  in  and  took  possession, 
Sherman  marking  his  supereillious  entry  by  his 
vulgar  discourtesy  to  the  Mayor,  who  met  him 
upon  entering. 

The  terrible  day  wore  away  into  the  darkness 
of  the  night.  The  helpless,  young  and  old,  now 
worn  with  watching  and  dreading  the  vengeance 
of  the  oppressor,  were  suddenly  aroused  to 
anxious  wakefulness  by  the  cry  of  "fire!  fire!" 

Soon  the  city  was  illumined  by  the  flames 
arising  simultaneously  from  different  points  of 
the  compass.  The  residents  then  saw  and  felt 
their  doom. 

The  flames  spread  rapidly  from  house  to 
house;  drunken  soldiers  looted  ad  libitum.  Men, 
women  and  children  rushed  hither  and  thither, 
frantic  with  fear;  or,  over-eager  to  save  their 
property,  lost  all  by  attempting  to  appease  the 
rapacity  of  their  despoilers  by  offering  a  part. 
Some  to  seek  safety  from  personal  harm,  lifted 
the  sick  upon  cots  and  litters  to  the  middle  of 
the  street,  where  the  full  view  of  the  terrible 
scene  made  the  hope  of  safety  mockery  by  add- 
ing horror  to  danger. 

The  Carnival  of  Arson  and  Deviltry  went  on 
in  every  form  of  crime  known  to  rapine,  robbery, 
lust  and  vengeance. 

Marguerite  and  her  guest  were  so  paratyzed 
with  fear  that  neither  could  realize  the  extent  of 


Columbia  in  Flames.  171 

the  conflagration,  as  the  place  was  filled  with 
soldiers  in  every  phase  of  temper  and  intoxica- 
tion, either  burning  or  stealing. 

The  fire  went  on  in  its  consuming  course,  near- 
ly destroying  the  beautiful  city  by  sweeping  away 
everything  from  the  State  House  on  the  south  to 
the  distance  of  about  one  mile  northwardly ;  and 
what  had  once  been  thickly  studded  with  hand- 
some and  substantial  brick  buildings,  occupied  as 
stores,  offices,  hotels,  etc.,  was  one  solid  ruin: 
and  on  each  side  a  distance  of  from  one  to  three 
blocks  thoroughly  Shermanized. 

Could  Sherman  have  ever  seen  the  order  of 
the  Christian  soldier,  which  we  so  proudly  here 
append! 

"Headquarters,  Army  Northern  Virginia, 

"Chambersburg,  Pa.,  June  27,  1863. 

"It  niust  be  remembered  that  we  make  war  only  upon 
armed  men,  and  that  we  cannot  take  vengeance  for  the 
wrongs  our  people  have  suffered  without  lowering  our- 
selves in  the  eyes  of  all  whose  abhorrence  has  been  excited 
by  the  attrocities  of  our  enemy,  without  offending  against 
Him  to  whom  vengeance  belongeth;  without  whose  favor 
and  support  our  efforts  must  all  prove  in  vain.  The  Com- 
manding General,  therefore,  earnestly  exhorts  the  troops 
to  abstain,  with  most  scrupulous  care,  from  unnecessary  or 
wanton  injury  to  private  property,  etc. 

"R.  E.  Lee,  General." 

The  night  wore  slowly  away,  the  breeze  stir- 
ring the  flickering  ernbers,  and  the  smoke  still 


172  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

hovering  over  the  crumbling  ruins.  Worn  out 
with  the  bacchanalian  orgies  of  the  night,  and 
weary  and  weighted  with  plunder,  the  soldiers 
slept  until  the  day  again  broke  over  a  city  con- 
quered, plundered,  and  in  ashes. 

Having  satisfied  his  burning  desire  to  take  the 
city,  Sherman  had  also  satisfied  his  desire  to 
burn  it,  and  now  he  began  his  march  to  leave 
the  ashes  of  the  mighty  camp-fire  of  his  ven- 
geance. 

So  horror-struck  with  the  reckless  destruction 
of  private  property,  and  a  witness  of  the  crimes 
and  excesses  committed  by  the  bummer  troops, 
too  horrible  to  relate,  Mrs.  Van  Horton  was  loath 
to  trust  her  presence  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
the  inarching  army. 

Believing  that  Randolph's  physical  condition 
would  soon  force  him  back,  or  that  he  would 
soon  return  to  relieve  their  necessities,  as  they 
were  despoiled  of  the  very  necessities  of  life  and 
would  starve  without  help,  Marguerite  advised  a 
patient  wait  for  his  arrival. 

On  the  day  of  Sherman's  entry  into  the  city, 
Randolph  joined  a  body  of  cavalry  under  Gen- 
eral H ,  at  Littleton,   seven  miles  north  of 

Columbia,  as  a  volunteer,  and  proceeded  with 
them  to  Newberry,  to  assist  in  driving  off  de- 
tached bands  of  Yankee  raiders. 

Hearing  early  of  the  destruction  of  Columbia, 


Randolph  Returns  to  Columbia.         173 

lie  secured  supplies  immediately,  and  took  the 
main  road  going  down  the  valley  of  the  Saluda 
river,  his  wagon  heavily  laden  with  provisions 
for  the  now  destitute  citizens. 

From  Newberry  to  Columbia  is  about  forty 
miles,  and  along  the  entire  route  Randolph  saw 
naught  but  ashes  and  a  widespread  desolation. 
Where  but  a  few  days  before  stood  the  happy 
homes  of  helpless  youth  and  defenceless  age, 
there  stood  only  the  bare  chimneys,  the  silent, 
solemn  monuments  marking  the  path  of  plunder, 
arson,  rape  and  wanton  destruction. 

The  silent  ruin  nevertheless  spoke  to  the  heart, 
and  Randolph  was  oppressed  beyond  measure. 
He  had  participated  in  all  the  campaigns  in 
Virginia,  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania  where  sol- 
dier met  soldier  armed  and  equipped  for  battle ; 
where  fields  were  covered  with  the  dead  and  dy- 
ing, victims  of  war's  insatiate  thirst  for  blood; 
yet  never  before  had  such  a  cruel  and  relentless 
exhibition  of  uncivilized  and  barbarous  warfare, 
and  desecration  of  the  property  and  sacred  rights 
of  non-combatants  met  his  gaze  before. 

Time,  time  cures  many  a  rugged  wound;  and 
it  is  well  said  that  he  who  forgives  not,  breaks 
down  the  bridge  over  which  he  must  cross ;  but 
in  future  time,  when  the  truth  of  history  will  be 
known,  will  it  not  be  a  blight  upon  a  hero's  ( ?) 
escutcheon,  to  stand  convicted  as  the  author  and 


174  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

abettor  of  such  infamy.'  And  in  an  age  like 
this,  the  age  of  steam  and  electricity,  the  Nine- 
teenth Century,  the  apotheosis  of  civilization! 

Crossing  the  river  to  the  Columbia  side,  Ran- 
dolph wended  his  way  through  the  burnt  district 
to  the  home  of  Marguerite,  and  to  his  mortifica- 
tion found  her  absent,  but  was  solaced  by  the 
joy  of  her  father,  who  was  rapturous  in  his  praise 
of  the  timely  arrival,  claiming  that  he  had  re- 
versed the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son. 

No  time  was  to  be  lost ;  people  were  in  want 
of  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  old  Captain  Darl- 
ington claimed  that  he  had  in  no  wise  left  his 
code  of  Old  Virginia  hospitality  behind  him. 

Not  forgetting  the  venerable  Doctor  who  had 
attended  him  when  so  near  death's  door,  Ran- 
dolph desired  to  supply  him  first.  Upon  arriv- 
ing at  his  gate  he  went  no  further,  for  there  was 
not  a  vestige  of  his  pretty  home. 

The  Doctor  was  a  man  of  noble  physique, 
noble  in  character  and  striking  in  appearance — 
a  man  who  stood  first  in  his  profession  in  the 
city  and  the  State — and  his  home  was  the  fruits 
of  a  lifetime  of  laborious  service. 

Decorating  the  walls  of  his  mansion  were  the 
pictured  forms  and  faces  of  those  who  had  fig- 
ured in  the  history  of  their  country's  glory;  of 
a  son  who  was  slain  in  the  celebrated  charge  of 
the   Carolina    troops   in   the    bloody   battle   of 


s  ■•  -. 


RANDOLPH   MEETS  THE  DOCTOR. 

A  SHERMAN    MONUMENT. 


The  Venerable  Physician.  175 

Buena  Vista  in  Mexico,  and  whose  name  is  em- 
blazoned upon  the  pedestal  of  the  bronze  Pal- 
metto monument  in  the  Capitol  grounds  of 
Columbia. 

While  Randolph  contemplated  the  sad  scene, 
the  old  Doctor  came  along,  simply  from  force  of 
habit,  and  espied  his  patient,  and  with  the  same 
calm  demeanor  which  always  characterized  him 
expressed  his  happiness  in  beholding  his  im- 
proved condition.  Not  one  word  of  complaint 
passed  the  old  man's  lips,  though  homeless  and 
suffering  from  hunger. 

Randolph,  clasping  his  hand,  said:  "Doctor, 
you  have  my  heartfelt  sympathy,  and  I  have 
come  as  your  temporary  commissary  and  desire 
to  issue  rations." 

"  Thanks,  Captain;  many  thanks.  Your  ar- 
rival is  very  opportune;  my  children  and  or- 
phan grandchildren  are  sorely  in  need.  You 
see  our  shelter  is  gone  and  our  rations  went  at 
the  same  time." 

''Tell  me,  Doctor,  how  they  came  to  burn 
your  place — you,  a  much-needed  man  among 
the  sick,  and  a  non-combatant?" 

"Why  they  destroyed  my  premises,  I  cannot 
tell ;  how  they  did,  I  can.  I  was  called  away  in 
the  very  height  of  the  conflagration  to  attend  a 
lady  patient.  I  left  my  children  and  grand- 
children with  my  housekeeper,  (my  wife  being 


176  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 

dead).  I  was  absent  about  an  hour,  when  upon 
my  return,  I  found  my  children  shivering  with 
cold  and  fear  upon  the  front  porch,  and  a  num- 
ber of  Federal  soldiers  moving  up  and  down  the 
stairs,  sacking  the  house.  As  I  stepped  upon 
the  porch  a  soldier  went  to  the  parlor  door  and 
shook  it  (it  being  locked).  He  asked,  'What's 
in  here?'  I,  referring  to  my  portraits,  an- 
swered, '  None  but  the  dead. '  They  then  came 
out  upon  the  porch,  threw  inflammable  liquid 
upon  the  siding  and  floor,  struck  matches  and 
fired  my  home.  I  turned  to  my  children  and 
said,  'Come.'  We  left  and  saved  nothing,  not 
one  single  item."*  And  as  they  turned  their 
1  »acks  upon  the  blackened  ruins,  they  directed 
their  steps  to  the  home  of  Marguerite. 

To  tell  the  truth,  Randolph  was  thinking  of 
his  darling  little  girl,  but  the  good  Doctor, 
taking  another  view  of  his  silence  and  abstrac- 
tion, proceeded  to  say:  "I  will  not  revive  sad 
memories  in  my  own  breast,  nor  tire  you  with 
the  harrowing  details  of  the  night  of  the  17th  of 
February,  1865 ;  they  are  known  to  our  Father 
in  Heaven  who  hath  said,  '  vengeance  is  mine,  I 
will  repay.'  My  dear  Captain,  crimes  were  com- 
mitted too  horrible  to  relate — excesses  marked 
by  the  cruel  invention  and  barbarous  vulgarity 
of  untamed  savages." 

*True,  verbatim. 


Marguerite  Saves  her  Jewels.  177 

With  this,  the  subject  is  dropped;  for  there 
upon  the  veranda,  in  all  the  glory  of  her  Con- 
federate "Bee  Store"  calico,  stood  Marguerite, 
whose  smiling  face  was  as  radiant  with  happi- 
ness as  a  heart  rilled  with  love,  satisfied  and 
glorified,  could  make  it,  awaiting  the  return  of 
her  patient  lo\rer,  now  impatiently. 

Catching  the  contagion,  Randolph,  feeling 
quite  as  happy,  and  perhaps  more  so,  cries  out, 
"Is  it  I  or  the  rations!" 

"The  rations,  of  course,  you  darling  old  fel- 
low," answers  Marguerite.  "You  have  come  in 
the  nick  of  time.  Although  they  did  not  burn 
our  home,  they  took  all  that  we  had,  and  turned 
up  the  whole  yard  with  their  bayonets,  seeking 
for  buried  treasure.  Bless  your  soul,"  laugh- 
ingly, she  says,  "but  are  they  not  experts! 
Not  quite  smart  enough  to  get  our  little  en- 
gagement ring,  with  my  few  remaining  articles 
of  jewelry;  for  my  maid,  Julia,  lifted  a  fence- 
post  in  the  stableyard,  and  put  back  the 
post  upon  my  fortune,  and  lo!  they  are  here, 
safe." 

And  thus  the  afternoon  passes  away.  The 
kind,  old  Doctor  had  left  several  hours  before; 
tea  had  been  served,  and,  as  it  was  growing  late, 
the  family  were  preparing  to  retire,  when  a  mes 
senger  brought  to  Randolph  a  note  from  the 
surgeon  in  charge  of   the  hospital,   asking  his 


178  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

immediate  attendance  at  the  special  request  of 
Mrs.  Van  Horton. 

Donning  his  military  overcoat,  and  looking 
well  to  his  "  navy  six,"  he  soon  found  himself 
at  the  office  of  the  hospital,  where  an  attendant 
was  awaiting  to  conduct  him  to  the  ward  in 
which  the  surgeon  was  engaged. 

Proceeding  thither,  he  was  ushered  into  a 
large,  airy  room,  containing  a  single  cot,  upon 
which  a  man  was  lying.  Bending  over  him 
stood  the  surgeon,  while  Mrs.  Van  Horton  stood 
near,  holding  a  basin  of  water.  To  an  old  sol- 
dier, it  was  evident  they  were  dressing  the 
wounds  of  some  unfortunate. 

All  was  still — -no  word  was  spoken — and  the 
little  clock  upon  the  mantel  merrily  clicked 
away  the  minutes  of  time,  careless  of  their  value 
to  the  patient,  whether  living  or  dying. 

With  a  look  of  thanks  from  the  woman,  and 
a  nod  of  recognition  from  the  doctor,  Randolph 
entered  with  noiseless  steps,  and  looked  down 
upon  the  mangled  form  of  Colonel  Van  Horton ! 

When  Columbia  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  invaders,  Sherman  ordered  the  shot  and 
shell  stored  in  the  magazine  of  the  State  arsenal 
on  the  hill,  near  the  reservoir  of  the  city,  to  be 
loaded  upon  wagons  and  to  be  thrown  into  the 
river,  by  a  detail  of  forty  or  fifty  men. 

Van   Horton  was   superintending  the  casting 


A  Hospital  Scene.  179 

of  the  shell  into  the  Congaree  river,  when,  by 
some  unaccountable  mishap,  an  explosion  oc- 
curred, killing  every  man  of  the  detail  and  fatally 
wounding  the  officer  (  Van  H. )  in  charge — liter- 
ally annihilating  soldiers,   mules  and  wagons.* 

Having  accounted  for  Van  Horton's  condition, 
we  will  proceed  with  our  story. 

The  continued  efforts  of  the  surgeon,  ably  as- 
sisted by  the  discarded  wife,  soon  told  upon  the 
suffering  man,  for,  after  a  few  moments,  he 
gradually  aroused  from  his  lethargy,  coolly  sur- 
veyed his  surroundings,  and  recognizing  and 
fixing  his  gaze  upon  the  woman  whom  he  had 
so  grievously  wronged,  faintly  asked,  "Is  it  pos- 
sible?" 

Being  moved  by  a  sense  of  pity,  the  poor 
woman  approached  the  sufferer  with  tearful  eyes 
and  outstretched  arms,  with  an  effort,  once  more 
to  press  her  head  upon  the  bosom  of  him  who 
had  pledged  to  love,  honor  and  protect  her,  when 
the  door  was  suddenly  opened  from  without,  and, 
like  an  apparition,  a  tall,  handsome  blonde,  ele- 
gantly attired,  and  leading  a  handsome  boy  of 
six  or  seven  years,  glided  into  the  room  with  al- 
most abrupt  haste,  and  with  the  manner  and  as- 
surance of  one  both  privilged  and  expected. 

Not  understanding  anything  of  the  history  of 
the  parties  here  strangely  met,  the  doctor,  who 

*True.  D  A— 12 


180  From   Dust  to  Ashes. 

had  been  closely  watching  his  patient,  who  de- 
sired to  meet  with  Randolph  before  bidding 
farewell  to  earth,  turned  to  Randolph,  and  was 
almost  startled  by  the  expression  of  his  face; 
his  hands  were  clenched,  his  eyes  blazing  with 
wrath.  What  could  have  aroused  such  an  exhi- 
bition of  anger  and  hate  by  the  mer,e  appearance 
of  a  woman  in  the  act  of  rendering  a  friendly 
service  to  a  suffering  soldier?  This  was  the 
question  that  flashed  through  the  doctor's  mind. 

Not  long  did  he  have  to  wait  to  have  his  ques- 
tion solved.  Thinking  Randolph  to  be  in  Vir- 
ginia with   his   command,   Miss   F ,  in    her 

haste  scarcely  noticed  the  presence  of  any  one 
except  that  of  Van  Horton  and  the  surgeon 
attending. 

Closing  his  eyes  upon  her  entrance,  Van  Hor- 
ton's  quietude,  with  that  of  everyone  else,mad<' 
the  stillness  of  the  room  almost  death-like,  until 
Mrs.  Van  Horton,  who  had  stood  spell-bound 
upon  the  intruder's  entrance,  and  had  fixed  a 
long,  loving  look  upon  the  child  introduced, 
gave  a  cry  of  joyful  recognition,  which  startled 
her  hearers,  and  was  strangely  echoed  through 
the  dimly  lighted  halls. 

The  scene  which  followed  would  require  the 
genius  of  an  Edgar  Allen  Poe  to  present,  for 
what  followed  was  beauty,  deceit  and  sin  en- 
trapped,  then  expelled;   hope,  love  and   honor 


"Forgive  Me,  Grace."  181 

rewarded,  and  the  heart  made  glad;  and  to  the 
now  poor,  helpless  sufferer  the  knowledge  of 
G-od's  good  pledge  "Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will 
repay. ' ' 

The  piercing  cry  had  scarcely  died  away,  when 
Van  Horton,  stretching  forth  his  right  arm,  the 
only  uninjured  limb,  and  raising  his  head, 
pointed  to  the  child  now  in  its  mother's  arms, 
and  said:    "  'Tis  hers — 1 — I  have  failed." 

To  Randolph — "You   have  her   (pointing   to 

Miss  F )  to  thank  for  all  my  work  of  vicious 

hate.  I  know  that  I  have  to  die,  and  I  want 
your  forgiveness. ' ' 

And  to  his  wife,  very  feebly :  "Can  you  forgive 
me,  Grace?" 

The  poor,  heart-broken  woman,  wife-like, 
forestalling  his  thoughts,  even  his  desires,  held 
the  child's  quivering  lips  to  his  parting  kiss,  and 
clasping  the  weary  head  to  her  bosom,  saw  and 
felt  the  breath  going  by  gasps  from  the  poor, 
shattered  body,  while  Randolph  held  his  hand 
and  assured  him  that  he  was  forgiven,  as  he 
hoped  to  be  forgiven. 

It  was  but  a  few  moments  when  all  was  over, 
and  the  little  one  fatherless. 

During    the    death   scene,   Miss   F had 

weighed  well  that  the  meeting  with  Randolph 
was  not  a  matter  of  trifling  interest,  both  on 
account   of    her  acts   of    a  personal  character, 


182  From  Bast  to  Ashes. 

and  her  association  as  a  unit  in  the  invading 
army. 

With  that  cat-like  quietness  and  alertness 
which  characterized  her  movements,  she  disap- 
peared unseen,  nor  was  her  departure  noted  or 
cared  for;  like  a  cigar  stump  it  was  smoked  out, 
and  the'remains  went  to  the  gutter;  but  in  long 
years  after,  the  lightning  of  her  unscrupulous 
wrath  flashed  through  sombre  clouds  of  news- 
paper slings. 

In  a  few  days  Van  Horton  slept  with  the  sod 
above  him,  which  he  had  so  lately  trod  as  con- 
queror, his  wife  and  little  one  awaiting  a  steamer 
at  Charleston. 

When  Colonel  Van  Horton  was  picked  up 
after  the  explosion,  with  shattered  limbs  and 
mortal  wounds,  the  news  traveled  like  a  flash  to 

his  camp  quarters,  where  Miss  F and  his 

child  were  cosily  enjoying  a  siesta  in  the  deserted 
premises  of  a  prominent  refugee. 

Leaving  the  child,  she  hurried  to  the  scene  of 
devastation,  to  find  that  the  Colonel  had  been 
conveyed  to  the  nearest  hospital,  which  was  in 
use  by  the  Confederates.  Hastening  thither, 
she  was  informed  that  he  was  then  unconscious, 
and  that  his  wounds  were  mortal.  Tired  and 
depressed,  she  sat  down  by  his  cot  to  await  the 
return  of  consciousness. 

Long  did  the  moments  seem,  but  at  last  there 


Farewell  Miss  F .  183 


came  a  long-drawn  sigh,  a  moan  of  pain,  as 
nature  came  back  to  assert  its  claims  and  to 
resent  its  abuse,  and  with  lips  contracted  with 
pain,  received  the  kiss  of  his  visitor. 

Knowing  his  desperate  condition,  he  said  in  a 
mandatory  tone: 

"  Gro,  bring  my  boy,  that  I  may  see  him  once 
more  before  I  die.'1  and  acting  promptly  the 
fear  inspired  by  his  words  and  his  condition  oper- 
ating as  an  impetus  to  her  movements,  she  hast- 
ened away  and  soon  accomplished  her  errand, 
with  the  result  already  described.  Ignorant  of 
the   happenings   while   upon  her  errand,    Miss 

F ,  with  her  proverbial  recklessness,  rushed 

into  the  presence  of  those  who  loathed  her  very 
name. 

And  now  we  relegate  her  to  her  bummer  asso- 
ciates, and  waive  her  adieu  forever,  to  resume 
the  thread  of  our  story. 

Randolph  and  Marguerite  made  frequent 
tours  about  the  city,  and  contributed  in  no 
small  manner  toward  the  alleviation,  if  not  the 
relieving  of  the  distress  of  many  families. 

Deep  and  bitter  was  the  denunciation  of  Sher- 
man for  his  inhuman  barbarity  in  the  unneces- 
sary destruction  of  one  of  the  fairest  cities  of 
ths  South. 

And  now,  thirty  years  after,  let  us  pause  for 
a  few  moments  to  consider  the  facts  in  the  noble 


184  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

effort  to  obtain  the  truth,  of  history,  asserting 
only  what  we  know,  and  quoting  from  Sherman 
himself,  who  tells  of  his  cruel  and  unwarrant- 
able crime  of  looting  and  burning  Columbia. 

In  the  Memoirs  of  W.  T.  Sherman,  written 
by  himself,  page  287,  Vol.  II.,  occurs  these 
words :  "  In  my  official  report  of  this  conflagra- 
tion, I  distinctly  charged  it  to  General  Wade 
Hampton,  and  confess  I  did  so  pointedly  to 
shake  the  faith  of  his  people  in  him;  for  he  was 
in  my  opinion  a  braggart,  and  professed  to  be 
the  champion  of  South  Carolina." 

Was  there  ever  a  more  puerile  sentence  writ- 
ten than  this — a  spiteful,  jealous,  emanation  of  a 
mimic  historian  l 

If  there  was  ever  one  name  the  least  appli- 
cable in  the  language  of  every  people  upon  God's 
earth,  the  name  of  braggart  connected  with  that 
of  Hampton  is  the  one.  It  may  be  handed 
down  only  in  Sherman's  book,  but  an  incendiary, 
indicted  by  a  civilized  world,  and  proven  by  the 
words  of  his  own  mouth,  can  never  besmirch 
the  character  of  so  gallant  a  gentleman. 

Did  Hampton's  cotton  and  torch  reach  forty 
miles,  cross  the  Congaree  and  Saluda  rivers,  rest 
for  hours  from  its  labor  of  love  and  affection  to 
his  old  friends,  neighbors  and  kinsmen,  and  then 
burn  Columbia  and  despoil  the  home  of  his  wife 
and  children? 


Sherman  Dissected.  185 

Sherman  burned  Columbia — contemplated  it, 
and  carried  out  his  contemplation  to  the  letter, 
his  denial  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  and 
his  Memoirs  prove  the  truth  of  the  assertion. 

See  page  152,  Volume  II,  to  show  his  animus, 
his  incendiary  propensity:  "Until  we  repopulate 
Georgia  it  is  useless  to  occupy  it,  but  by  the 
utter  destruction  of  its  roads,  houses"  (not  its 
armies),  etc.,  *  *  *  "we  can  make  this  inarch 
and  make  Georgia  howl." 

Again,  page  159,  Volume  II,  "I  sally  forth  to 
ruin  Georgia."  Not  one  word  of  fighting — only 
of  the  looting  and  barbarous  destruction  of  the 
homes  of  helpless  non-combatants — old  men, 
women  and  children. 

On  entering  South  Carolina,  in  Sherman's 
general  order  No.  120,  page  175,  Volume  II,  this 
appears:  "Section  5.  To  corps  commanders 
alone  is  entrusted  the  power  to  destroy  houses." 

Halleck  wrote  from  the  City  of  Washington, 
December  18,  186-1  (see  page  228,  Volume  II): 
"Should  you  capture  Charleston,  I  hope  that  by 
some  accident  the  place  may  be  destroyed,  and  if 
a  little  salt  should  be  sown  upon  its  site,"  etc. 

To  Halleck,  in  answer,  Sherman  writes  (see 
idem):  "I  will  bear  in  mind  your  hint  as  to 
Charleston,  and  do  not  think  that  salt  will  be 
necessary.  When  I  move,  the  Fifteenth  Corps 
will  be  on  the  right  of  the  right  wing,  and  their 


186  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

position  will  naturally  bring  them  into  Charles- 
ton first,  and  if  you  have  watched  the  history  of 
that  corps,  you  will  have  remarked  that  they 
generally  do  their  work  pretty  well.  The  truth 
is,  the  whole  army  is  burning  with  an  insatiable 
desire  to  wreak  vengeance  on  South  Carolina.  I 
almost  tremble  at  her  fate,  but  feel  that  she  de- 
serves all  that  seems  in  store  for  her.  I  tool;  upon 
Columbia  as  quite  as  had  as  Charleston." 

And  true  to  his  promise  to  Halleck,  the  Fif- 
teenth Corps  was  the  first  to  enter  Columbia, 
"which  was  quite  as  bad  as  Charleston;"  the 
"same  accident"  did  occur,  and  the  place  was 
laid  in  ashes. 

How,  in  the  face  of  all  this,  and  thousands  of 
eye-witnesses,  could  Sherman  have  the  unblush- 
ing afirontery  "to  charge  it  to  General  Wade 
Hampton!" 

To  falsify  his  denial  by  an  open  and  honest 
confession,  which,  perhaps,  he  conceived,  ac- 
cording to  the  teachings  of  an  old  adage,  would 
work  some  benefit  for  his  soul,  was  a  crowning 
act  of  his  literary  digest,  and  occurs  on  page 
288, Volume  II,  of  his  Memoirs:  "Having  utterly 
ruined  Columbia,  the  right  wing  began  its  march 
northward." 

After  maturing  a  march,  poetically  to  the  sea 
(really  against  old  men,  women  and  children, 
all  helpless  and  defenseless),  by  a  general  order 


The  Great  Lee.  187 

systematically  arranging  details  for  marauding 
and  plunder,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  venom  he 
ruthlessly  loots  and  burns,  and,  appalled  at  the 
enormity  of  his  crime,  most  lamely  attempts  to 
shift  the  burden  upon  the  shoulders  of  an  hon- 
orable soldier. 

Oh,  no!  General  Sherman.  Hampton  was  no 
descendant  of  the  burning  race:  nor  was  his 
sword  ever  drawn  upon  old  men,  women  and 
children,  but  under  his  superior  officer,  the  Great 
Lee,  he  was  expressly  forbidden  such,  and,  by 
general  order,  reminded  that  " Vengeance  was 
only  the  prerogative  of  his  Maker. ' ' 

Apropos  just  here,  a  little  incident  we  beg  to 
mention — a  jewel  worth  unveiling. 

When  Barksdale's  sharpshooters,  before  Fred- 
ericksburg, destroyed  the  pontooniers,  and  im- 
peded the  construction  of  the  pontoon  bridge,  it 
so  provoked  the  general  of  side-whiskers  fame — 
the  Bur  aside — that  forgetting  the  men  with  arms 
in  their  hands,  he  turned  one  hundred  and  forty- 
seven  pieces  of  artillery  upon  the  devoted  city, 
driving  hundreds  of  women  and  children  from 
their  homes,  to  wander  over  the  frozen  highway, 
thinly  clad,  and  knowing  no  place  of  refuge, 
their  miserable  path  lighted  up  by  the  lurid  glare 
of  their  own  homes  and  the  bursting  shells  of 
one  hundred  a»tl  forty-seven  guns. 

General  Lee  grimly  watched  the  painful  spec- 


188  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

tacle  from  a  redoubt,  silently  noting  the  wanton 
destruction;  then  gravely  turning  to  those  near 
him,  remarked:  "  These  people  delight  to  de- 
stroy the  weak  and  those  who  can  make  no  de- 
fense ;   it  just  suits  th cm . ' ' 

Let  this  be  Sherman's  epitaph. 

We  honor  men  like  Grant ;  cool  in  the  midst 
of  all  troubles,  honorable  and  just  in  his  deal- 
ings, a  hero  who  faced  death  on  a  hundred  bat- 
tlefields, and  twice  on  his  bed  of  sickness ;  a  sol- 
dier who  sought  his  armed  enemy  and  gave  him 
battle — all  honor  to  the  noble  warrior!  The 
prayers  of  every  good  soldier  goes  up  to  the 
great,  White  Throne  for  such  as  him.  But 
Sherman! — and  his  march  to  the  sea — from  all 
such,  "  Good  Lord  deliver  us,"  is  a  fixture  in 
our  Litany. 

With  an  armed  force  of  one  hundred  and 
twelve  thousand  men;  more  than  Hood,  Beaure- 
gard, Hardee,  Johnston  and  Lee  combined, 
with  no  army  to  oppose ;  only  the  frightened 
faces  of  old  men,  women  and  children,  with  a 
finale  of  a  grand  negro  round-up — this,  O,  shades 
of  Ca?sar!  is  the  theme  of  paeans  of  u  Sherman's 
March  to  the  Sea!" 


After  the   War.  189 


Chaptee  XVII. 

Six  months  have  elapsed  since  the  events  last  re- 
lated occurred.  War-clouds  have  rolled  by,  and 
the  sun  of  peace  is  shining  down  upon  a  coun- 
try whose  people  are  once  more  engaged  in 
the  pursuits  of  industry  and  commerce. 

Now  and  then  a  crutch  or  an  empty  sleeve, 
brings  back  the  remembrance  of  the  din  and 
carnage  of  battle,  bat  the  bummers  of  the  camps 
are  loath  to  quit  their  occupation,  and  have  now 
become  the  bummers  of  politics. 

Under  the  name  of  reconstruction,  the  South 
is  undergoing  a  moral  trial  from  which  she 
emerged  with  shorn  locks  but  with  spirits  re- 
newed, with  rejuvenated  vigor,  with  a  healthy, 
chastened  energy. 

And  now,  as  the  leaves  are  beginning  to  be 
tinged  by  the  chilling  touch  of  frost,  when  the 
fall  roses  are  unfolding  their  fresh,  sweet  buds 
to  greet  the  sunbeams  and  cheer  the  heart  and 
eye  of  man;  when  the  robins  come  trooping 
with  their  happy  chirps  overhead,  filling  the 
tree-tops  with  their  welcome  voices;  just  in  this 
time  and  season  we  find  the  same  two  persons 
in  the  same  garden,  at  the  same  spot,  as  when 


190  From  Dust  to  Ashes. 

long  months  ago  we  found  them,  after  their 
eventful  boat  ride. 

Then,  it  was  on  the  eve  of  a  departure  upon 
an  errand  of  grim-visaged  war;  but  now  it  is 
upon  the  eve  of  quite  a  different  journey. 

A  journey  of  life — for  now,  after  so  many 
years  of  faithful  waiting,  Marguerite  and  Ran- 
dolph are  to  be  united  in  the  holy  bonds  of 
wedlock. 

And  here,  among  so  many  kindred  and  friends, 
there  were  but  few  houses  where  the  one  impor- 
tant subject  was  not  discussed  in  every  phase 
conceivable  and  inconceivable,  from  cellar  to 
garret,  and  from  kitchen  to  stable. 

Old  Captain  Darlington  and  his  good  Virginia 
wife  were  proud  of  their  children  and  of  him  to  be 
numbered  among  them,  and  were  determined 
that  the  temporary  dwelling  of  balloon  construc- 
tion, (his  beautiful  home  having  been  burned  by 
Hunter's  forces  in  his  raid)  should  be  no  draw- 
back upon  the  celebration  of  these  nuptials, 
which  should  partake  of  all  the  forms  and  fest- 
ivities of  an  old-fashioned  Virginia  wedding. 

The  days  have  gone  by,  and  old  Time  has 
sprinkled  our  heads  with  frosty  marks  of  his 
seasons  passed,  but  never  will  he  be  able,  with 
all  his  chilly  breath,  to  cool  or  dim  the  remem- 
brance of  that  happy  event. 

The  sun  had  set  in  a  clear,  blue  sky,  and  the 


Wedding  Guests.  191 

quivering  leaves  of  fall  barely  felt  the  passing 
breeze;  the  stars  looked  down,  twinkling,  from 
their  dark,  blue  canopy,  and  all  was  peace — 
peace,  sweet  peace. 

All  hearts  thronging  there  were  happy,  and 
nature  inanimate  seemed  in  glorious  unison  with 
nature  animate.  The  very  barking  of  the  dogs, 
scurrying  through  the  lane,  seemed  happy  and 
cheerful. 

Up  among  the  grove  of  trees,  there  streamed 
a  flood  of  light  through  every  window.  Many 
of  the  old  servants,  surfeited  with  a  few  months 
of  philanthropic  Yankee  servitude,  were  back 
at  home,  and  by  the  antics  of  the  picaninnies, 
and  the  "hi-hi's"  and  "yah!  yah's!"  of  their 
elders,  accompanied  by  the  arrival  of  buggies, 
carriages,  and  every  other  vehicle  owned  or  ob- 
tainable, created  a  pandemonium  of  joyous  con- 
fusion. 

Kindred  met  kindred,  after  years  of  absence 
in  camp  or  prison.  Old  friends  came  from  the 
valleys  of  the  James,  the  Shenandoah  and  the 
Roanoke. 

Beautiful  women,  whose  dear  hands  had  so 
lately  smoothed  the  brows  of  dying  soldiers,  01 
cheered  their  lovers  in  their  devotion  to  their 
country,  were  there. 

Grive  me  for  courage,  hospitality  and  the  true 
temper   of    the    patriotic   Roman   matron,   the 


192  From  Bust  to  Ashes. 

woman  of  blessed  Old  Virginia !  Glorious  old 
Mother,  the  synonym  of  heroine ! 

The  clock  had  just  chimed  the  hour  of  ten, 
when  the  minister  of  God,  robed  in  the  surplice 
of  his  holy  office,  made  his  appearance  in  their 
midst,  prepared  to  perform  the  functions  of  his 
calling. 

A  grim  smile  wreathed  the  face  of  many  an 
old  soldier.  He  pictured  in  his  mind  the  slight 
contrast  of  another  occasion,  wherein  our  same 
surpliced  minister,  officiating  in  another  capac- 
ity, upon  the  historic  field  of  Manassas,  turned 
loose  his  artillery  with  the  benediction,  "and 
may  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon  their  souls!  " 

There  was  a  stillness  of  expectant  surprise, 
when  the  curtains  were  drawn  aside,  nor  were 
their  expectations  disappointed,  for  as  Margue- 
rite stood  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  the  gallant 
Randolph,  never  was  beauty  more  radiantly 
pictured. 

Decked  with  the  simplicity  of  a  village  maiden, 
no  queen,  with  all  the  robes  of  state  and  jewels 
of  a  nation's  vaults,  could  excel  the  wealth  of 
beauty,  of  form  and  of  feature,  and  of  the  luxu- 
rious gifts  of  nature's  own  hands;  as  the  loving 
pair  stood  and  pledged  their  troth,  and  received 
the  benediction  of  the  brave  old  minister  of 
God. 

It    is   years   since   that  event,    and  now  far 


They  Are  One.  193 

away  west  of  the  Mississippi  river,  Randolph 
watches  the  playful  antics  of  a  smaller  Sadie, 
and  a  Lawrence,  too,  and  often  reminds  Mar- 
guerite that  when  he  shook  the  dust  of  the 
Institute  from  his  feet  he  dreamed  but  little  of 
finding  his  fair  bride  among  the  ashes  of  Colum- 
bia, and  his  nuptials  over  the  ashes  of  her 
father's  homestead. 


Finis. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
940 


